Unearth
by Enter the Extinct Age
Summary: Ginny works in a restaurant while her roommate Hermione flies high in the Ministry-both their worlds will be turned upside down when Draco Malfoy comes back to town.
1. Marks and Sparks

            **Authoress' Note: After finishing 'Seven Deadly Sins' I decided I want an angst fiction piece, because I've never really tried it.  This one will eventually turn into one, but as of now it's rather light.  It's so much fun to write, so expect pretty frequent updates.  I would LOVE it if you could review me please, I know the site's screwed up but bear with me.  I've also got another fic up: Trapped.  **

        This fic deals with everyone a couple years after graduation, mainly focusing around Ginny and sometimes Hermione.  You'll soon get the gist.  

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot and nothing else. How depressing.

**Thanks: **to Jenn, who helped me with some ideas and encouragement.  Go read her fic if you have time, her pen name is casper, and her story Love Me is a Draco/Hermione one.

-

            "Oh my God," Ginny mumbled as she swung her legs over the edge of her bed.  The sun was shining in through the curtain so brightly that she thought she would faint from the headache she was developing.  "Why won't the bloody curtain block _out _the sun like it's supposed to?"  Groaning, she walked over to the curtain.  "Nocturnalis!"  The curtains formed a rigid wall between the sun and Ginny's room, leaving it blessedly dark.  She crossed over to the mirror above her dresser and looked at her reflection.  "Oh God, I look like living death!"  The circles under her eyes were apparent, so Ginny reached for her concealer.  Dabbing under her eyes she yelled, "Come on Hermione, time to wake up!"  The moan from the next room made Ginny grin.

        Hermione Granger came to the door and leaned against it sleepily.  Her bushy hair was even frizzier than usual in the morning, and her neatly matched pyjamas were rumpled up like pyjamas are in the morning.  "Why do we have to wake up at seven in the morning? It's bloody cruel!"  She sighed and came to sit on Ginny's bed while Ginny blended the concealer in.  

        "It's called 'work' Hermione dear," Ginny replied, sitting next to her wearily.  "I did mine last night and the Ministry calls for you to be there at nine.  Besides, I thought you loved work?" 

        Hermione grinned.  "Oh I do!  But God, couldn't they wait a little?"

        "No way.  You know they need you!!"   Ginny countered, laughing a little.  Hermione hit her with a pillow to change the subject; she was always horribly modest.  

        "How was the shift last night?" Hermione asked, flipping over to lie on her stomach and putting her head on her propped up hands.  Ginny made a face.

        "I hate that fucking restaurant, I really do.  I mean, all these snobby rich people come in and just…_snub_ you!   And why on _earth is it called the 'Dancing Duck?' I must've asked Geoff a thousand times, but he won't tell me…" by now, Ginny was up and at her closet, rifling desperately through her clothes on the closet rack.  Hermione watched while she answered._

        "You should just quit then Ginny! Look, I'll cover rent while you find another job, you should be waitressing tables for snobs when you know you could do so much more!" Hermione's concerned tone annoyed Ginny.  She whirled around, holding a white sundress in her hands.

        "You sound just like my mother," she said quietly.  Hermione rolled her eyes.

        "Come on Ginny, you _know she's right on this!" _

        "Maybe, but maybe right now I just want to…oh I don't know, it'll figure itself out."  Hermione looked like she wanted to say something else, but she shut her mouth and rolled off of the bed, going to her own room to get dressed.  Ginny watched as she went and then closed the door so she could put the sundress on.  It was one of her favorites, white with a small rose by the neck.    She slipped on some red sandals, very strappy, very sexy, and perched some tortoise shell sunglasses on top of her head.  Quickly applying some red lipstick, she heard a crash from Hermione's room.  Ginny dropped the lipstick and ran as fast as her sandals would let her to Hermione's room.

        "What is it?? Are you all right?"  Ginny's concerned tone made Hermione look up from the huge pile of books that had fallen onto the floor.  Hermione laughed.

        "_I'm _fine, but these books might not be.  Trauma upon impact and all that."  Ginny sighed and bent down, with difficulty, to help her with them.  Once done, Ginny was left standing with a Hogwarts Yearbook in her hands.  

        "Which year is this?" Ginny asked, turning it over to try and find a date.  Hermione shrugged. 

        "Search me…look on the inside cover, I'll bet there's one there."  Ginny did so and smiled fondly.  "Your seventh year.  God, that was a fab year."  She flipped through the pages to a full page spread of Hermione, Harry and Ron, laughing in Hogsmeade.  "You guys were so cute, going around like three peas in a pod!"  Hermione blushed.

        "Oh shut up…that was years ago.  Now we keep at _least an eight inch distance from each other," she replied, trying to snatch the book away._

        "Not you and my brother though, you seemed to have decreased the distance by at least a couple inches over the last few years…" Ginny said mischievously, holding the book out of Hermione's reach (which wasn't hard seeing as Hermione was 5'4" to Ginny's 5'7") and turned the page.  A pair of rebellious gray eyes stared out resentfully at the two giggly girls and they both made a face.  

        "Draco Malfoy.  Haven't seen him since graduation, but I heard he's on a Quidditch team somewhere…He really gave us hell, didn't he?"  Hermione remarked.  Ginny nodded. 

        "You three hated him with a fiery passion, and I wasn't too fond of him myself.  Wasn't he the one who told Harry back in my first year about the singing valentine?"  Ginny asked, disgust at the culprit evident in her voice.  Hermione looked like she was about to laugh.  

        "Oh yes, the singing dwarf."

        Ginny scowled.  "Shut up you!  I was a bad poet, albeit, but I tried."  

        "'Aint that the truth," Hermione muttered, and got a playful punch on the shoulder for her comments.

        "Did I ask you for your opinion?  Now get dressed so we can Apparate already!"

        Hermione ran to her dresser and frantically went through the clothes.  "Can I borrow something of yours, Gin?  You know I'm useless with clothes!"  Ginny grinned despite her mood and shut the yearbook, placing it on Hermione's desk.  

        "Of course.  Come on, I have a green top that would look wicked on you."  Hermione smiled gratefully, and they both went back into Ginny's small room.  It was painted a darkish green, one of Ginny's spontaneous "projects" from the summer.  Ginny casually plucked the hanger with the top off of the closet rack and handed it to Hermione.  "Here you are.  Remember the rules: no spills, no stains, no rips, no stealing?"  Hermione rolled her eyes.

        "You're as bad as me when it comes to your clothes," she said, running back into her room to put it on.  Ginny grinned.  She always had a bit of a blind spot when fashion was concerned: people used to come to her in Hogwarts for fashion advice, from her fourth year on mainly.  As she waited for Hermione, she grabbed her cell phone (a useful Muggle tool) and some hair chopsticks, which she placed in her mouth as she arranged her hair in a messy bun.  By the time she had finished, she had brought herself into their small living room/kitchen.  Ginny's job was to take care of the living room, which she frequently neglected, and Hermione's was the kitchen; it, of course, was immaculate.  Hermione wouldn't tolerate messing up her cooking space, as she loved cooking.  As Ginny was thinking about all this, Hermione came out looking gorgeous in Ginny's green peasant top and dark jeans.  Ginny grinned.

        "Fab 'Mione, now let's go?"  Hermione laughed and nodded, picking up her briefcase and sunglasses.  She gave her hair one last brush through, which was now magically straightened, and walked over to Ginny.

        "I'm ready!"  

        "It's about time!"  Ginny replied in mock annoyance, and they both popped out of their London flat into the bustling Ministry of Magic.

---

        "Sign in here please."  The chubby receptionist ordered as soon as Ginny and Hermione had popped into the office.  Hermione looked at Ginny who nodded.

        "I'll stay for a bit, and then I'm out for a coffee," she explained.  Hermione grinned.

        "Oh good.  I was hoping you'd stay for a bit," she said while writing 'V. Weasley, Granger' on the notepad.  The receptionist looked at the names, and then down at the pictures forming next to their names on the paper.  

        "They correspond.  All right, go on then."  Hermione and Ginny nodded and walked through the metal barrier.  There was a whoosh! And they were standing in a normal looking office, slightly busier than most.  Ginny looked around at all of the people and watched as multiple people came up to greet Hermione.  

        "Miss Granger, we need these papers to go out as soon as possible- " 

        "Do you want some coffee Miss Granger?"

        "Hermione!  Good to see you."

        "-please Miss Granger, if these papers don't go out…"  

        Hermione waved them all away.  "If you have something to say, make a memo and give it to my secretary."  Everyone nodded and went back to their work.  Ginny made a face like what-to-do-now? And tapped her nails on her black handbag.  Hermione turned around at the sound.  "Oh Ginny…what would you like to do while you're here?"

        Ginny shrugged.  "I'll just look around, per usual.  Go on, you have work to do."  Hermione nodded and sat down at her desk, her mailbox full to the brim with memos, the black plaque emblazoned with 'Hermione M. Granger, Foreign Magic Correspondent'.  Ginny turned to walk around the office.

        It was one of her things she liked to do on occasion.  She'd Apparate in with Hermione and either split off to roam the streets or say hello to all of her Ministry friends.  Ginny grabbed a bagel, an American thing the Ministry decided to adopt, and proceeded to pick it apart as she walked around.  It was a busy place, the Ministry; a place she knew well.  She'd visit with her father on Father's Day sometimes, as it always fell on a Sunday, and she couldn't count the times she'd been there to visit one of her brothers.  Her mother had been hoping for her to go into the Ministry, but after a month in the mail room she quit.  It was then that she was walking past the Dancing Duck and saw the 'Help Wanted' sign in the chic window.  She'd thought of it as a perfect opportunity, but a year later she was still a waitress who didn't know what she wanted to do.

        She stopped outside an important looking door, with the name 'Harry Potter, Head of Auror Division'.  Her hand went up to trace the letters when the door was flung open.  Ginny jumped, startled, and waited as she watched Harry show out a pudgy looking man.  

        "Thanks for the update Neville, I'd been getting worried about where Bulstrode had gotten to," Harry was saying.  

        "No trouble at all Harry, no trouble," Neville replied, tipping his hat and then turning to walk out.  He saw Ginny and went a magnificent mauve color.  Ginny smiled.

        "Hello Neville.  How are things?"

        Neville fought not to stammer.  "Good, good, busy as always."

        "Glad to hear it," Ginny replied.  Neville tipped his hat again and then walked past her to the breakfast cart that was just leaving to restock.  Ginny looked up at Harry, who grinned down at her.  

        Harry was grown.  A lot.  Ginny hated to admit it, but his improved appearance did nothing to quell her lingering feelings for him.  Having gotten contacts and a muscular build, he was tall and threatening when he wanted to be.  It came in handy for his ever dangerous job of Head Auror (to understand the full impact of this title, one must know that Madeye Moody himself held the same one years before) when he needed to intimidate the enemy.  Now, he beamed down at Ginny, the little sister he never had, and gave her a warm hug.

        "Gin!  What a nice surprise!" He said, setting her back down on her feet.  Ginny laughed.

        "I figured I'd come in before my incredibly busy schedule of sitting on my arse all day," she said and he chuckled. 

        "It's good to have you here."  Harry shut his office door behind him and they stood outside the office for a second before Ginny spoke.

        "Well, I was actually going now, I have a dire need for coffee," she said, turning to leave.  Harry raised an eyebrow.  

        "We have coffee here last time I checked," he said, looking around and successfully locating the coffee cart going around.  Ginny shrugged.

        "Actually, I've developed a rather unhealthy obsession with Muggle coffee...I don't know how they do it.  It's just around the corner from here, I'm a regular."  She grinned sheepishly and Harry laughed; his laugh was one of those that filled a room and made other people want to laugh with him.  

        "All right, I'll let you go then.  Maybe you could bring me one back someday; I've got to taste this coffee that's got my Ginny hooked."  He grinned and Ginny felt her stomach ache as though it had been punched.  

        "Sure…bye Harry."  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then quickly turned and walked through the metal barrier, past the receptionist, and onto the Muggle streets of Kensington, London.  

---

        She slid the sunglasses over her forehead and they covered her brown eyes with ease.  Searching around for a coffee shop, she found nothing to satisfy the empty stomach giving her hell.  Scowling, Ginny rummaged through her purse to find her emergency wad of Muggle cash.  Ginny had always admired the Muggle paper money, so pretty with its colors and picture of the Muggle King William.  Besides, he wasn't such a bad looking bloke to have on paper money anyway.

        Zipping the purse shut again, she looked across the street and her face lit up; there, in front of her very eyes, was an Accessorize.  Those closest to Ginny knew that this was her favorite Muggle store ever.  "How come I never noticed this one?" she mumbled excitedly as the light changed and she was permitted to cross the street.  She strode over the black and white striped street with ease and a brilliant smile lit her face as she pushed open the door and the bell tinkled merrily overhead.  

        The girl at the cash register looked up with a desperate SAVE ME look on.  Ginny looked at her curiously before tuning in to listen to the rant her customer was on.

        "Not even real silk, I ask you, what is this??  A mind game?!?"  The customer had a shrill voice that was familiar to Ginny, so she began to listen more closely.  "The price is outrageous, never mind the quality of the product, and I need something to wear tonight that's…fitting!"  The woman was practically screaming now in her towering fury.  Ginny winced for the poor cash register girl; no one should have to deal with someone as disagreeable as this woman.  

        "Excuse me," Ginny cut in politely.  The woman turned around at the interruption, her face pink with distress.  Ginny looked at her closely; blonde hair (dyed), tight clothes, excessive lipstick.  It was puzzling how familiar she looked.  "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and I was wondering if maybe you want some help deciding what to wear? I could help you know."  The woman looked curious.  

        "How?"

        "Well, I know quite a bit about clothes and such, and I happen to help many of my friends how to dress," she explained.  The woman looked doubtful, but it must have been a very perplexing matter for her because she accepted the help.

        "I could use the help," she agreed reluctantly.  "All right, let's do this then."  Ginny sighed with relief.  The cash register girl looked completely relieved, so Ginny smiled, winked, and took the woman by the arm.  

        "So what is it you're looking for?" she inquired.  The woman sighed miserably.

        "Oh God I'm so useless at this…well, my boyfriend and I are going out for dinner tonight, and I think he might propose."  The woman's otherwise unattractive face brightened up and Ginny grinned.  

        "That's wonderful!  So is he taking you out to a fancy place or somewhere casual?"

        "Fancy I suppose…" the woman trailed off.  "You know, you look awfully familiar."  Ginny stopped mid-thought about the shades of blue that'd fit the woman.  

        "You do too," Ginny answered, looking at her curiously.  

        "Well, what's your name?"  The woman asked.  Ginny answered with her middle name, common practice for witches and wizards in the Muggle realm.  

        "Eve.  How about you?"  The woman seemed to be racking her brains, but came up with nothing.

        "Violet.  So, are we going to go shopping or what?"

---

        Violet and Ginny stood in Kristen's Formalwear shop two hours later.  Ginny's feet were killing her in the strappy sandals and she was hungry to boot.  Violet was trying on a purple dress in the changing rooms while Ginny waited patiently outside, flipping through a _Hello! Magazine.  Violet came out and Ginny looked up.  _Thank the Lord,_ she thought to herself.  The dress looked stunning, which meant that their hunt was over.  _

        "Perfect Violet, that's the one," Ginny said, dropping the magazine on the rack where it came from.  Violet beamed. 

        "You really think so?" she said, turning to look at herself in the full length mirror.  Ginny smiled.  

        "I know so.  Come on, let's pay."  Violet went back in to quickly change and they paid within ten minutes.  Outside Kristen's, Violet extended a friendly hand.  

        "Thank you so much for your help."  Ginny took it, looking at her watch as she did so.

        "It was no trouble.  Hope to see you again soon!"  Violet nodded.

        "Bye Eve."

        "Bye Violet."  

        Violet turned around and walked towards the telephone booth on the corner of the street, Kristen's carrier bag clutched in her hand.  According to Ginny's watch, it was time for lunch.  She looked both ways and then ran across the street, ignoring the angry honks and annoying catcalls of the nearby construction workers.  The automatic doors slid open for herm, with 'Marks & Spencer' painted on them.  Ginny walked briskly to the food section and grabbed a Chicken and Cress sandwich along with an orange juice.  Turning around rather too quickly, she slammed into someone very tall and very broad.  The sandwich and juice fell onto the floor, and the cap fell off of the juice making it pour on the floor like and orange tidal wave.  Ginny looked up sheepishly and almost had a heart attack when she saw the platinum blond hair and gray eyes.  

        "Do I know you?" Ginny asked curiously as she bent down to pick up her sandwich and clean up the juice.  The man bent down as well and took out a linen handkerchief with a Liberty tag to mop up the juice.  Ginny looked at the stitching to see if it had initials, but the man's hand was over it so that she couldn't see one letter.  

        "I don't believe so," he replied, looking at his now orange sodden handkerchief and casually throwing it in the wastebin.  Ginny tried hard not to gape at his throwing out a Liberty handkerchief; those things are expensive!  This man was obviously loaded.  

        "Oh. Well, you look familiar," Ginny said, hearing the sentence for the second time that day.  The man stopped and looked at her closely.  The scrutiny made her uncomfortable, almost like he was undressing her with her eyes.  However, she defiantly stood it out, staring him straight in the face.  

        The man stopped soon enough though.  "Well, I'll be going now.  Sorry about your juice."  He didn't sound sorry at all.  He strode away whistling, and Ginny looked after him with narrowed eyes.

        "What an insufferable prat!" she mumbled.  As she proceeded to the cash register to pay for her sandwich, she stopped dead.  "In fact…he's just like Draco Malfoy!"  The thought was horrifying, puzzling and wonderful at the same time.  On the one hand, this is _Draco Malfoy _we're talking about- sarcastic, mean spirited boy who had Ginny in tears countless nights back at Hogwarts.  On the other side, why on earth was he in the Muggle world?  And thirdly- he hadn't pinned her as a Weasley.  

        Ginny handed over a five pound note to the girl, grabbed her sandwich and left "Marks and Sparks" as she had heard it be called, mulling this over in her mind.  He hadn't seen her red hair and freckles and thought "Weasley!"  In fact, he hadn't thought anything at all from the indifferent look on his (perfectly sculpted) face.  And that was the way Ginny liked it best. 

        In fact, that's why she loved the Muggle realm so much.  In it, she was just another girl shopping or eating.  In the wizarding world however, she was immediately recognized as Ginny Weasley, Arthur's daughter, Ron's little sister.  Ginny couldn't go fifteen minutes without a "How's your brother?" from a complete stranger in the streets.  It even happened at work; people would either try to strike up an amicable conversation or they would give her a pitying gaze (_are they that desperate to pay the bills?).  It was maddening.  Sometimes Ginny wanted to just run away from what she grew up with to live with the Muggles; they're not that bad really.  The only things that kept her from doing so were Hermione and Harry.  Hermione, her best friend ever, who she shared a flat and countless secrets with.  Harry, easily the most confusing but gratifying person in her life; he was on the brink of either being a love fetish like he was in school or the big brother without freckles she never had.  _

        Ginny checked her watch.  3:13. Astounded at how quickly the time went by, Ginny turned a corner and into an alley to Apparate back to her apartment to change for work.  She roughly shoved some sandwich into her mouth and threw the rest out as she popped out of the Muggle world into her own.


	2. Remembering

**Authoress' Note: **This has to be the first time I don't care that I got no reviews.  This story is way too much fun! Oh, and the speech Ginny makes to Hermione is mostly from something I wrote before on the topic; some people will recognize it.

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

--

         "So how was work?" Ginny asked Hermione as they walked through the metal barrier to go back home.  Hermione drained the last bit of her coffee before answering.

        "A total nightmare.  The Irish Ministry wants to host the World Cup this year when they fully well know that it's our turn.  I have to say, Wood's not happy at all, he keeps writing them Howlers about being bad sportsmen, I've been up to my ears in their return Howlers!" Hermione groaned, tossing her Styrofoam cup into the nearest bin.  Ginny giggled.  

        "Wood _is fanatical about the sport isn't he?" she said, sipping her smoothie.  Hermione laughed._

        "That's an understatement.  Even Harry says he's never seen Wood so angry about a Quidditch related subject, and that's saying something."  The two girls popped into their apartment simultaneously and kept chatting like nothing had happened.  Ginny picked up the remote and clicked their television on, a Muggle habit they had a soft spot for.  A woman's face appeared on the screen, looking grim like newscasters tend to.  

        "Saffron Jones reporting for CNN.  I'm standing on the corner of Lancaster Square where a bi_zarre occurrence has taken place.  Apparently, officials got an anonymous call in from this telephone booth," Saffron Jones motioned behind her, "saying that some people had mysteriously gotten to the top of this apartment behind me and were sending sparks of sorts down at the crowd below.  Local authorities found three bodies at the scene, but they cannot find any plausible cause of death.  Back to you Phil."  Ginny muted the TV._

        "You think it was Death Eaters?"  Hermione didn't even look up from the magazine she was looking through to answer.

        "Well of course it was Death Eaters!  They've been unusually active ever since LV got blasted by Harry.  They're furious; it took them so long to get him back and now they're back to square one."  Hermione turned a page of _Martha Stewart Living_ before throwing it on the coffee table.  Ginny sat on one of the kitchen stools listening raptly.  "I mean, it's only a matter of time before they bring him back like he was, but Harry's goal is to make sure that doesn't happen.  Personally, I don't think it can be avoided.  I'd rather take him out, one big old splashy deal, instead of having this-this _shadow _of a threat looming over our heads like a bloody Doomsday."  Ginny grinned.

        "You really are amazing Herm," she said as she threw away the plastic cup her smoothie had been in before.  

        "I know."  Hermione picked up her magazine again, but it wasn't a minute before a huge barn owl came screeching in through the skylight.  Hermione calmly put the magazine back down and began to take the letter off of its leg.  

        "That's Ron's owl isn't it?" Ginny asked curiously.  Hermione flushed a tiny bit.

        "Yes."  Once the letter had been removed, the owl hopped onto the armchair the girls had bought at a nearby garage sale the year before and proceeded to peck at the upholstery.  Ginny gently lifted it off of the chair and brought it to the kitchen counter as Hermione scanned the parchment.  

        "Well?  What does it say?" Ginny went to read over Hermione's shoulder.

_Hey Gin & 'Mione-_

_        Harry and I were going to have a sort of grand old dinner party thing at the Dancing Duck, sort of a reunion so to speak.  We've made reservations for 8…tonight ok with you?_

_-Ron_

        Ginny groaned.  "I can't believe him!  That's the restaurant I _work at! I need money! Plus, I can't go to dinner there, it'd be much too weird."  Hermione rolled her eyes and hit her on the head with the parchment lightly._

        "Don't be silly, you can come just as well as I can come."  

        "Think about it this way Herms- if you ordered the lobster a la Charles, I'd know that Chef Rigeletto spat in it three times for good fortune!"  Hermione made a face. 

        "Okay, I get your point.  And now I'm definitely not getting the lobster…well, _I'm _going, it'll be a nice opportunity to see everyone again," she said, getting out some parchment and scribbling a reply.  Ginny sank into the sofa next to her.

        "Oh fabulous.  Thanks for your support _roomie," Ginny replied sarcastically.   Hermione stopped writing._

        "Well what do you want me to say?"

        "That-that…oh I dunno, go to your stupid reunion dinner," Ginny said grumpily.  Hermione grinned gratefully.  

        "Thanks Gin!"

        "Yeah whatever."  Ginny, now in bad spirits, rose to get changed into her waitress' uniform.  She called over to her shoulder to Hermione as she went, "But if I'm your waitress you can expect lots of good fortune!"  Hermione couldn't help laughing as she watched the barn owl fly back out the skylight from where it came from.

--

        Placing her employee's card on the check in table, Ginny took her nametag from off the board where all the others were pinned.  Pinning it firmly to her breast pocket, she surveyed it critically: 'Virginia Eve Weasley'.  Why did they need her _full name anyway?  Everyone knew she was a Weasley, no need to make it public.  Geoff, the manager, came forward with outstretched arms.  Ginny gave him a hug._

        "Hey there Geoff, miss me?"  Geoff leaned back to look at her.  

        "Between last night and today missy, I do believe you've gotten skinnier!"  Ginny laughed and rolled her eyes, but it was just a game they played every night.  Geoff was one of those guys whose movie star looks got him lingering glances on the street and more Valentines than one could count.  Only his very good friends, Ginny included, knew that he was gay.  Ginny herself in fact, before she became friends with him, mooned after him for a short period.  Anyway, she loved him like another brother, although God knows she didn't need any more.  

        "No skinnier than usual," Ginny commented, grabbing the reservations book and looking down it.  "Oh will you look at that: 'Party of Eight, H. Potter'.  Try not to encourage the jolly festivities will you Geoff?"  Geoff looked at the book over her shoulder.

        "Ah, a missed dinner date opportunity?" he asked knowingly.  Ginny swatted him with a menu.  

        "No, just a reunion dinner," she said, trying to sound nonchalantly.  Geoff laughed.

        "Yeah right.  And I bet your roomie, you know, the one with great hair?  I bet she's going too and you're just bitter," he taunted, coming much too close to the truth.  Ginny ignored him and looked for her initials next to the dinner parties she'd be serving.  

        "Mr. and Mrs. J Kingswallop…Mr. and Mrs. M. Flint…oh God, why the Flints? They're a bloody nightmare!" Ginny complained, poking the aforementioned reservation savagely with her Biro pen.  

        "That's why they're your clients; you're the only one who can somewhat handle them," Geoff explained.  Ginny looked back down at the book.  

        "But it says party of four, which means they're bringing two of their loathsome friends too!  No, I can't do this, I don't care how much-"

        "15 galleons," Geoff cut in simply.  Ginny's brown eyes widened.

        "15…oh bother," she said pouting.  This meant the matter was closed.  Geoff smiled.

        "Good.  Now, I've taken the liberty of giving you Mr. Potter's reservation too…don't worry, I promise you'll leave with heavier pockets!" Geoff added, seeing Ginny's beyond horrified face.  "Plus, I won't make you have any show-ups.  Just a few reservations, ok Ginny my sweet?"  Ginny sighed.

        "God, if I wasn't so desperate for the money, I swear…" and with that, she picked up two menus and waited for the Kingswallops to show up.  

--

        It was a long time waiting for the illusive couple, or any of her reservations for that matter.  Ginny picked at her blue uniform; it had been one of her requests to have a blue one.  Each waitress/waiter was given a different color uniform, but Ginny had been adamant about blue.  Geoff had finally given up trying to get her to wear the pink and gave in.  Ginny had been so excited she had even gone out to buy matching blue sandals.  

        An elderly couple came in, chatting happily.  Ginny went up to them.  "Hello and welcome to the Dancing Duck.  Do you have reservations?"  The elderly man nodded.  

        "James Kingswallop, and this is my wife Rena."  Ginny nodded, inwardly incredibly relieved someone had finally shown up.  

        "Right this way sir," Ginny replied, showing them to a table and giving them their menus.  James Kingswallop looked closely at her nametag.

        "Weasley eh?"  Ginny nodded again.  "Tell your father James Kingswallop says hello; he helped me out of a spot with the Ministry about fighting yard gnomes."  Ginny fought the urge to laugh, and instead came out with a professional 'Yes sir' before walking back to the door while they decided what to eat.  

        The door tinkled open almost immediately, and a terrified Ginny noted the familiar profile of Marcus Flint, along with his wife Millicent.  Two other people stood behind them, the woman laughing loudly, the man quite sullen and silent.  Ginny took a deep breath and put a friendly smile on her face.  "Welcome to the Dancing Duck, I'll be your waitress this evening."  Marcus Flint turned around slowly and a malevolent expression came across his face.  Ginny gulped.

        "Ah yes, Miss _Weasley- I daresay you've served us before?"  Ginny nodded, feeling rather like a puppet now with all of the nodding.  The other couple looked up and Ginny gasped as she recognized._

        "Violet?" She said before she could help herself.  The other three looked at her strangely, but Violet looked equally astonished.

        "What are you doing here?" Violet asked incredulously.  

        "I-I work here…I didn't know you were a witch!" Ginny replied, eyes wide.

        "Likewise! And you're-good heavens, you're Ginny Weasley."  It was a statement of incredible distaste.  Ginny fought the urge to smash her over the head with the menus.  

        "Yes.  And you are…?"  Ginny asked coolly.  

        "Pansy Parkinson."  Ginny mentally smacked herself for not connecting the pug face to the one she knew so well from school.  

        "Of course.  Well, I've got your table over there, so if you'll just follow me…" Pansy's boyfriend was looking very amused by now, and that's all it took for Ginny to recognize him as well.  The juice man; Draco Malfoy.  Ginny shook herself and started to walk confidently towards their table.  Pansy was now talking to Millicent ("I swear, I had no idea!) as Ginny rolled her eyes and brought the chairs out from under the table.  They all sat down and took the menus from her without a word.  Draco Malfoy was now looking at her with increased interest, which Ginny completely ignored.  "I'll be right back with the wine list," she said, and walked away.  

        She walked into the kitchen and promptly began to search for Geoff.  Her face was flushed from anger and humiliation as she started yelling.  "Geoffrey Mitchell Price, you'd better give me more than 15 galleons for this bloody table!" Geoff came out of his office looking bemused.  

        "What on earth are you gabbing on about?" he asked, surprised at her sudden temper flare.  

        "Those sodding Flints brought equally repulsive friends, if not worse, and I reckon you knew about it!" she accused.  Geoff held up his hands.  "All right, let's not get over excited here!"  From anyone else it'd be insulting, but Ginny knew well that he meant no harm by it.  

        "Fine," she replied sulkily.  "It's just-oh my God, could I _have a worse table?!? The Flints, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy?!? There had better be a good explanation."  When Ginny said the names 'Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy' Geoff had burst out laughing._

        "No wonder you're so angry! Those two are incredibly…well, let's just call them incredible then shall we?"  Ginny didn't reply or laugh.  "What?  Is he like an ex or something?"

        "No!" Ginny screamed, losing it again.  "That's just bloody ridiculous."  

        "Whoa girl, sorry!"  Geoff said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.  "I just find this incredibly amusing-"

        "Oh you're no better than they are," she fumed before turning on her heel and walking out of the kitchen, yelling "I expect no less than twenty galleons now!"  

        The swinging doors slammed behind her and she stood looking at seven people she knew very well standing and staring at her.  She blushed hard as she walked over to greet them.  

        Hermione looked very close to laughing, and Ginny couldn't help but see the funny side of it all when she saw her expression.  "Yes well, maybe it's funny to _you_ lot, but I'm being forced to serve the table from Hell."  This was the cue for her seven friends to burst out laughing.  Ginny giggled as she slid seven menus from the menu rack.  "Nice to see you-Seamus, Harry, Parvati, Hermione, Ron, Colin, Lavender."  They nodded while laughing to her in greeting as they followed her to their seats.  Hermione put her napkin neatly on her lap and whispered as Ginny bent down on the pretense of filling her water glass "So who's at this table?"  Ginny straightened up and made a face while the rest of her friends shut up to listen.

        "Let's just say it couldn't get any worse," she replied, nodding her head to where the Flints, Pansy and Draco sat.  Everyone simultaneously made a face.

        "Oh Gin that's horrid!" Parvati exclaimed, looking sympathetically at Ginny.  Lavender was looking more closely.

        "Great Scott, is that Draco Malfoy?" she asked disbelievingly, looking at his broad frame with a raised eyebrow.  Ginny nodded.   Ron's head immediately jerked up from his menu to where the others were looking at.  

        "So the bloody wanker's showing his face again is he?" he asked, a hint of a mischievous grin on his face.  Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged as Ginny went around the circle filling water glasses.  

        "What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

        Ron grabbed a roll and launched into an explanation.  "You see practically as soon as we graduated, Ferret Face was offered a place on France's Quidditch team."  

        "No!" The girls exclaimed, and all the men nodded gravely.  

        Harry, who was a huge fan of the sport having played it religiously himself, joined in the conversation.  "But to understand how much England hated him for a bit, you have to realize that England was actually planning to ask him when they heard I wasn't going into Quidditch.  So basically it was a race against the clock.  I told England no the week of graduation, and they were going to ask him two weeks later.  France beat them to it and he accepted."  Hermione leaned back in her seat grinning.

        "Well that explains it!  I was wondering why he never turned up to torment us again."  Ron nodded.

        "I was surprised too, but as he's in France most of the time we are lucky enough not to have to see his ugly mug at all."  Ginny was about to add something when the bad tempered yell of Marcus Flint rang out across the restaurant.  

        "Weasley!"  Ginny jumped.

        "Oh Lord I have to go.  Catch up with you later."  She turned around and walked over to them with her wand and notepad out and ready.  Her friends back at the table shook their heads in pity.

--

        "Poor girl, those four are unbearable," Seamus remarked in his thick Irish accent, taking a swig of water.  Ron and Harry nodded grimly in agreement while Parvati and Lavender looked over occasionally and giggled hysterically.  Hermione frowned.

        "What's so funny?" she asked, playing with her salad fork.

        Parvati looked up with a grin.  "Have you taken a good look at Mr. Malfoy there Herm?"  Hermione raised her eyebrow.

        "Can't say I have." Harry and Ron looked up sharply at the giggly duo.  

        "Why, what's up Lav?" Harry looked closely at Lavender who motioned with her head at the table in question.  

        "France must've agreed with him, that's al I have to say," Lavender answered simply.  Ron gagged on the roll he was now eating and Hermione's jaw dropped.

        "You're not actually suggesting that _Draco Malfoy-" Hermione stopped and started again.  "Let's look at this objectively.  Draco Malfoy, bane of our existences in Hogwarts, scrawny ferret faced Draco Malfoy whose parents are in Azkaban as of now, _hot?!?_"  Lavender and Parvati nodded, to everyone else's complete revulsion.  _

        "Just wait 'till he stands up hun, I guarantee a great big smile," Parvati said, patting Hermione on the shoulder.  Hermione, completely shocked, looked at Ron and they both silently agreed: there was something in those pre-dinner cocktails.  Harry, meanwhile, decided to get into a less controversial subject, such as Quidditch, with Seamus.  

        "I'm telling you, Ireland has the right to want to host!  We did maybe ten years ago!" Seamus was saying hotly.  Harry shook his head, drinking some water.

        "No way man, we reserved the slot and it's ours.  No way you're going to take it away again!" Harry argued.    

        "Bloody greedy if you ask me," Seamus muttered.  Harry grinned.

        "Maybe so; welcome to England mate."  They both roared with laughter and the whole restaurant turned to see who the culprits were.  "Oh Christ," Harry muttered.  He wasn't prepared for another ambush of loyal fans; he got worse than that though.

        Harry looked across the tables to see Draco Malfoy turned around with a malicious smirk on his face.  He knew it well as he had seen it practically everyday in his school days.  Ginny, who was just taking their menus from them, had stopped dead in her tracks mid-reach for Marcus'.  There was a tense pause, and then everyone went back to their business.

        Except for Draco Malfoy of course.

        The now silent party of seven watched as Draco muttered something in Pansy's ear, who broke out into a similar smirk, and got up to walk over.  Hermione's eyes widened despite herself; Parvati and Lavender weren't entirely wrong about him.  Maybe it was the extra Quidditch practices, but he was definitely looking (there was no other word for it) hot.  His gray eyes were cold as ever, but in them was a tiny spark of mischievousness, not unlike Ron in his playful moods.  However, this spark wasn't warm or friendly at all; it was frozen in its place.  

        He reached the table and looked directly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were sitting side by side.  "So the Dream Team really _is still together…and I thought it was just a rumour."  Ron's face was contorting drastically into what Hermione would label as fury/horror.  She took it in her hands to reply as she feared if either of her comrades answered it would involve smashing glass.  Behind Draco, Hermione could see Ginny standing horrorstruck…and hurt.  But before she had a chance to investigate it, she was saying something to her former arch nemesis._

        "Nice to see you're together with your own Dream Team as well Malfoy," she replied casually, with the air of someone talking to their bank manager.  Draco shrugged.

        "I wouldn't call them a team per say…more like a gathering of idiots."  Parvati bit her lip to keep from laughing, which set Lavender off as well.  "But that's not why I came over."  To everyone's annoyance, he took it upon himself to sit in the eighth vacant chair; the one that Ginny would've sat in had she been able to come.  

        "What do you think you're doing?" Ron asked, jaw clenched.  Hermione flashed him a warning Look, and Ron fell silent.  

        Ignoring Ron's inquiry, Draco continued.  "I suppose you all hate me, and you really shouldn't feel any other bloody way towards me.  I have three things to say to all of you, and then I hope to God I'll never see you ever again- especially you, Weasley."  Ron took this as a compliment.  Draco started ticking them off on his fingers.  "One: I joined up with our French neighbors because I could. Two: Don't worry, I still loathe you all.  Three: Your little sister really grew, didn't she Weasley?"  Draco took a second to enjoy the immense rage Ron was now displaying all over his freckled face.  "Right, then I'll be going back to my dinner. Happy Eats."  And with that, he was back at his table.  Ron was shaking with anger.

        "That no good son of a-"

        "Ron, did we really expect anything else?" Hermione said, trying to calm him down a little.

        Ron paused.  "Well no, but still…and I was wondering why I hated him so much!" Everyone laughed.  Harry looked 'round for Ginny and frowned.  

        "Where's Gin?"  Heads turned, trying to locate their waitress/friend.  Hermione looked concerned.  

        "She _never _leaves work, never!"  Seamus shrugged and went back to his roll.

        "Ah, I'm sure she's just in the kitchens or something.  Nothing to worry about, I'm sure."  There was a murmur of agreement, and reluctantly, Hermione went back to the conversation.  

--

        "Geoff, I'm taking off for the rest of the night, I don't care if you only pay me 2 bloody Knuts!" Ginny yelled into Geoff's office, wiping her eyes with her hand as she shoved her nametag on the board.  Geoff's head popped out and his jaw dropped when he saw the distressed state of her.

        "Ginny love, what happened?"  Ginny just shook her head, fearing that if she spoke she would bawl like a little baby.  Geoff knitted his brows together in concern.  "I'll get Harold to cover for you."  Ginny nodded gratefully and breathed in deeply, trying to contain herself.  She marched determinedly to the back door at the rear of the kitchen, almost as if she was afraid she wouldn't make it, flung open the door, and wrapped her coat around her as she started trudging through the alleyway.  It was halfway down the alleyway that she realized she had gotten her suede sandals wet and therefore ruined when she completely broke down.  Not because of the sandals, but just the general suckiness of the day.  She put her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the tears and sat on a garbage can miserably.  It was only when she heard a silken voice say "Now look what we have here" that she looked up and narrowed her eyes.

        "Get the _fuck away from me."  Draco looked supremely amused.  _

        "Language Weasley."  

        "I don't care," she said stubbornly, wiping her eyes and sniffing.  The last thing she wanted was Draco seeing her like this after his insults.  To her surprise and dislike he came and sat down on the garbage can next to her.

        "I thought I'd find you here."

        "Delightful Malfoy, really _amazing how you used your skills to find me," Ginny replied extremely sarcastically.  Malfoy twisted his mouth in a very odd manner.  _

        "Yes, I take pride in my navigational skills."  He waited for a response but all he got was her back facing towards him.  Drops of rain started to cascade from the sky and Draco could distinctly hear Ginny letting off a stream of four letter words that would make even the toughest biker blush.  "I expected more from you, honestly."  Ginny whirled around, her face murderous.

        "I frankly don't give a damn what you expect of me," she countered, her tears mingling with the rain now falling freely from the skies.  The chopsticks fell out of her hair and into the trash on the ground, her hair getting soaked from rain, making it darker than the usual fiery red.  Draco's own very precisely gelled hair was getting messed up, but he didn't seem to notice.

        "All I'm saying is I thought you were tougher than that.  You know, get an insult, flip the offender the finger, continue daily routine kind of girl," he said and Ginny almost laughed.

        "What on earth made you think that?" she asked, curious despite herself.

        "Well first off, the juice incident," he reminded her, smirking.  Ginny remembered.  "You didn't seem too pleased, and I think I remember you saying what an 'insufferable prat' I am as I left."  Ginny nodded, pleased with herself.

        "Well yes, you were frightfully rude."  She wiped her face of the moisture and got up, ready to leave.  "Don't expect me to get snivelly and then fall at your feet in 'womanly defeat' Malfoy, but don't expect me not to hear what you're saying either."  Ginny decided that to leave before he could make another snide comment, leaving him sitting on the garbage can behind her in the pouring rain.

--

        Ginny ran across a Muggle street holding her umbrella above her.  She had been walking for fifteen minutes already, and was far away from the restaurant already (the fact that she Apparated helped a bit as well).  The sky was hammering torrents of rain down on her, and it did nothing to brighten her mood any.  Then, almost as if it was there just for her, she saw one of those small gardens that London sometimes has inside squares of houses.  An idea came into her head and she walked up to the gate, shook out her umbrella, and whispered "Alohomora!"  The gate swung open and she walked in to sit down heavily on the nearest stone bench.  

        The garden was one of those classically gorgeous ones with marble urns and overgrown flowers everywhere.  The droplets of rain hung on every leaf as if they were designed to fit it, and the grass was springy and wet to the touch.  Ginny traced the bench with her finger, breathing in the somewhat soothing scent of the damp.  Breathing in slowly and exhaling, she silently reprimanded herself.  It had been a long time since she had lost control like that: but then again, it had been a long time since anyone had brought her first year at Hogwarts up.

--FLASHBACK--

        _Ginny walks over to the table with a pretense of a carefree waitress.  Marcus Flint closes his menu and orders the lobster and his wife asks for the same.  Hiding a smile at the choice, she asks Draco and Pansy what they would like.  Pansy orders the chicken Caesar; Draco orders the beef special.  Breathing a sigh of relief that __Flint__ hadn't made a nasty comment yet, she bends down to take the menus.  Draco leans back comfortably in his chair and asks nonchalantly, "So how's Tom?" _

_        Those three words are all it takes to get the memories flooding in.  Ginny stands in shock as the unpleasant laughter is passed around the circle; Draco isn't laughing.  Just looking at his prey with those slate gray eyes._

--

        Remembering Tom Riddle was something so unexpected that Ginny hardly knew what to do with herself.  For years after the trying ordeal in her first year she had been trying to forget the fact that she was basically possessed by the most dangerous wizard of her time.  The tactlessness of Draco's statement cut the tape so to speak; it was like a signal for the horrendous memories to circle her head.  

        The importance she felt at finally being noticed; Tom had only vaguely known one Weasley, and didn't associate Ginny with him.  He accepted her for being a truly sparkling individual, full of life and warmth; but he took it all away.  Everyday he'd ask her how her day went, and Ginny would answer with a one word sentence like "Fine" or "Good".  But Tom always knew.  He always knew how horrid the day had gone or how happy she was at the moment.  He always asked her to write down every detail, every emotion, and Ginny would without a second thought.  

        Tom was most interested in her feelings for Harry however.  Ginny poured all of her love for him and all of the frustration she harbored at his obliviousness, and he lapped it up like a cat with cream.  When he came out of the diary, Ginny could still remember the mocking laugh he unleashed on her and the one word he uttered before she fainted: "Pathetic."

        Ginny's eyes welled up with tears again and she bit her lip hard to stop them from tumbling down her face again.  It wasn't often that she cried anymore; if she did, she never let anyone see.  But she had let Draco Malfoy see, the one who made her cry, and Ginny wouldn't forgive herself for that.  She took one last look around the garden after this internal vow and then Apparated to her flat.

--

        When another waiter had come to cover for Ginny, Hermione knew at once that something was wrong.  She flashed one angry look at the back of Malfoy's head before uttering a quick apology to Ron and Harry before grabbing her bag and coat and walking out.  Ron and Harry now were completely confused and upset at Ginny's disappearance, and of course Ron blamed Malfoy for it.  As Hermione left, she could hear the remnants of her company debating over what could have caused it.

        It started to rain hard as Hermione scanned the outside to try and locate the fiery red hair she now knew so well.  Finding nothing, she Apparated to the flat.  It was empty; Hermione rounded it three times before giving up on finding her there.  Somehow, maybe through that best friend sixth sense, she assumed that Ginny would be returning soon.  She crossed over to the stove and filled the kettle with water to boil for some tea when she got back; it seemed like it was a soothing tea kind of night.  It had started whistling when Ginny popped into the living room, soaked to the last stitch of her clothing, and red-eyed.  Hermione almost dropped the tea kettle in fright.

        "Oh my God Ginny what happened?  What did that son of a bitch do?" She asked, a tinge of fury in her voice.  Ginny took one look at Hermione still in her 'out to dinner' clothes and kettle in hand and she broke out into a frown.

        "Why aren't you at the restaurant with everybody?"  Hermione grinned slightly.

        "I know as well as anybody that an emotional Weasley on the loose is no light matter," she replied, trying to make Ginny smile.  It worked; Ginny gave her a small smile and Hermione sighed with relief.  

        "You guessed right."  Ginny threw her sopping wet coat on a chair and flung herself on the couch.  Hermione poured some tea into a cup and handed it to Ginny before pouring her own.  Ginny smiled gratefully and took a long sip.  Hermione waited patiently for her to say something as she settled herself down in a chair across from her.  "Well, I can't say I like Malfoy any better than I did before," she said quietly, chuckling in an empty sort of manner.  Hermione's face fell.

        "What did he say?" she asked softly, her hands clenching up in the folds of the armchair.  

        Ginny set the tea down on the coasters Hermione had knit before and sighed.  "It's nothing, I don't know why I took it so…literally."  

        "Nonsense! He can be really hateful when he's not just idly being sarcastic, if I remember correctly," Hermione commented, taking a long sip of her own tea.  Ginny looked up at her and nodded.

        "I suppose.  Well, I guess what he said just sprung a lot of unwanted memories in my head."  Hermione found it best not to reply to this, and Ginny was grateful as she mulled over the last couple of hours in her head.  It made her nauseated every time she thought of it; looking up at Hermione's worried face, she realized she should tell her.  She was her best friend after all.  Hermione jumped slightly when Ginny finally started to speak.

        "He mentioned Tom 'Mione.  And I know, after all these years I should be over it, and I was!  But when he said that…it was just so profoundly moving.  In the bad way."  Hermione's face changed into a weird mix between rage and worry.  She didn't interrupt though.  "It's terrifying every time I think of it," she whispered, clutching her tea mug again. "Tom stole my soul; it's worse than _Imperio, he did that too."  Ginny fell into a brief silence as she remembered the bliss she got when the Imperius Curse was performed on her.  She remembered the way her mind was wiped blank of any worries she might have had.  "I was a wraith, a shadow, and the worst thing was that no one ever bothered to realize it." Hermione could have killed herself with the amount of sorrow in Ginny's shaking voice, and it scared her.  "I poured out my heart to Tom, he sympathized, he _cared._  And when he told me the truth…" she trailed off momentarily.  A nearby lamp exploded, but Ginny didn't seem to notice.  "…I broke down.  I shut down more like, I couldn't thin, so I just fainted."  A weird, unearthly grin flickered across her face.  "Black."_

        Ginny didn't dare look at Hermione's reaction to all of this, so she plunged on.  "Black was good," she continued softly.  "I couldn't see the red hair which as labeled me as 'another Weasley'.  I couldn't see the green eyes that seemed to follow me everywhere; both Harry's and Tom's.  I couldn't see the gold and maroon that so warmly decorated the Common Room…I couldn't see the piercing green skin of the Basilisk.  I welcomed black."  The shards of glass from the lamp started melting into a puddle of ooze into the wooden floor.  "I don't like thinking about it," Ginny declared almost confidently.  "It made me sick; sometimes I had to run into the bathroom before it was too late it's that nauseating.  It was and still is disgusting that I let him do that to me."  Ginny looked up at Hermione with tears threatening to brim over.  "Dumbledore can go on about 'more powerful wizards than I have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort', I really couldn't care less! Didn't they get that I was ashamed and humiliated?"  Hermione and Ginny both knew that was a rhetorical statement.  Ginny suddenly gave a small laugh.

        "Nothing is a secret in Hogwarts.  When Harry successfully got the Philosopher's Stone, everyone knew.  You remember?"  Hermione nodded silently.  "When Cedric was killed, everyone knew exactly how.  It was pretty much the same in my case.  Second year wasn't fun."  Ginny's face darkened at remembering it.  "I heard whispers everywhere and I did my best to ignore it, but you sort of can't avoid it when it's _everywhere._" Ginny's voice grew mocking.  "'Did you hear about Ginny?  Weasley, you know, red hair?  _She _attacked everyone, she was taken over by You-Know-Who!  Poor Ginny, I wonder how it happened?'"  She stopped dead and sipped some tea.  "You know something? So do I."  Hermione and Ginny were both crying at this point, although silently.

        Hermione got up and sat next to Ginny, giving her a hug.  Ginny started sobbing into Hermione's shoulder saying "I'm so stupid!"  Hermione shook her head.

        "You're one of the smartest people Gin, don't even think that!"  Ginny tried to smile but only ended up giving a watery sort of expression.  Hermione wiped away her own tears and gave Ginny a tissue from the coffee table.  Ginny blew her nose and watched in puzzlement as Hermione started scribbling away furiously on a piece of parchment.  

        "What're you doing?" Ginny asked, wiping the running mascara onto the tissue.  Hermione folded the parchment and gave it to her owl Helena who was sitting on the telly.  

        "I think it's time for a little reunion."

--


	3. Dogs Are Fluffy Carnivores

        Hermione had never been so angry.  The look on Ginny's face from their conversation kept popping up as she tried to get some sleep, and not far behind it would be Draco's sneering expression, sending her mind into a fresh rant.  When her alarm clock rang, sounding too cheery in the early morning haze, she knew she'd look terrible.  She greeted Ginny in exhaustion, and wasn't surprised to see that she looked no better for the wear either.  Hermione picked up the phone and dialed a long number while Ginny turned the TV on with a click of the remote.  

        "Hello Parvati," Hermione said into the phone.  Ginny listened carefully, tucking her long Weasley legs under her comfortably and muting the TV.  "Yeah…uh huh…no she's fine…Listen, I won't be in work today.  No, it has nothing to do with-I think I ate something funny last night…ok.  Ok.  Bye."  Hermione clicked the phone off and opened the fridge.  "Telephones are _so_ much better than owls," she muttered, taking out the jam.  Ginny was silent; it was the first time Hermione was ever going to miss work and it was because of her.  

        "Hermione, you really don't have to-" she began awkwardly, but Hermione just waved her hand at her impatiently.  

        "Shut up, you know I do.  Besides, I have a letter to send."  Ginny raised her eyebrow, but Hermione was at the moment sticking her head in the fridge trying to find the crumpets.   Ginny sighed and un-muted the television.  

        "Hey Herms, since when has Parvati had a phone?" she yelled into the kitchen.  

        "Ever since she started living with Dean," Hermione answered grinning.  Ginny laughed.

        "Does he have her going to football games with her yet?  West Ham and all that?"  Hermione shook her head laughing now.

        "If you thought Parvati would be caught dead at a football game you obviously don't know the girl," she said, making Ginny laugh more.  Suddenly, the newscaster music came on the TV and caught their attentions.  

        "We are here live at Piccadilly Square with a special news bulletin."  The square-jawed woman on the screen was looking excited, as reporters do when something truly awful has happened.  Ginny bit on her lip anxiously as Hermione came in with a crumpet dripping jam in hand.  "There was a mass massacre last night at this very popular hangout with who police think were also responsible for the Lancaster Square murders.  Authorities believe that the culprits are pyrotechnics of sorts due to their method of using sparks and lasers to kill.  Back to the station, I'm Saffron Jones for CNN."  Hermione's face was grave.

        "Those Death Eaters are getting more and more ambitious…Piccadilly Square for God's sakes!"  Ginny nodded, although fighting to keep down her giggles at 'method of using sparks and lasers to kill'.  "Thank God this wasn't in Turkey or something, because then I'd have to really go into the office today."  Ginny looked up.

        "Oh go Hermione they'll need you!"  Hermione shook her head.  

        "I'll bet you that at this instant they're rallying a press conference together for Harry; he's Head Auror anyway.  I'd just be there to take notes or something, and right now the staying home bit sounds a lot more appealing."  Ginny shrugged.

        "All right, whatever you want to do."  Hermione nodded efficiently, looking just like their Transfiguration teacher in Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall.  

        "That's right."  

--

        Draco Malfoy was sitting in his study opening a large, dusty old volume when the owl flew in.  It was a beautiful owl: snowy white with flecks of golden all over it, like its huge eyes.  However, it was unfamiliar to him and that made him a little wary.  There was a small chain of Howlers that came to his doorstep when his parents were sent to Azkaban two years ago.  Apprehensively he walked toward the owl.  It cocked its head in an almost suspicious manner before sticking out its leg and hooting.  Draco snatched the letter off of its leg and scanned it quickly.

_Malfoy-_

_        I won't lie to you; seeing you is the last thing I want.  But sometimes you have to do something whether you like it or not.  That being said, I need to speak with you: do you want me to Apparate to your 'manor' or will you come to my apartment? _

_-Hermione Granger (a.k.a. 'Mudblood')_

        So Granger 'needed' to see him!  Well, that was an interesting development.  For a second, Draco was planning to write back and say 'no thanks sod off', but his curiosity got the better of him.  

_Mudblood (you sad it, not me),_

_        I have to say, I'm intrigued.  I have a break in Quidditch practices so I'll Apparate to your place- 7 good for you? Don't bother to send a response unless there's a problem._

_-Draco Malfoy_

        He sent the owl out the window and watched it fly away across the moors.  "It almost looks like a postcard," he muttered tilting his head slightly.  "One of those really crappy ones with yapping dogs and fox hunters."  He shrugged and sat down ready to start translating the text in his hand from the Ancient Runes.  He had translated 'dogs are fluffy carnivores' when the doorbell rang.  "Marvelle!" He yelled.  A small house elf came skidding into the study.

        "Yes master?"  Draco loved that: master.  

        "The door?" he said, making it sound completely obvious.  Marvelle stood shock still for a moment before running off at breakneck speed to the door.  Draco cringed when he heard the high voice of Pansy Parkinson saying 'take my coat? That's a good…erm, thing.'  He waited to hear Marvelle say 'Sir is not home' but what he got was 'sir is in his study'.  Scowling, he made a mental note to talk to that house elf about listening.  

        Pansy's high heels were clicking closer with every step, making Draco look around wildly for a closet he could duck into.  No such luck; she threw open the door with a bang.  

        "Draco honey, can I come in?" she asked coming in.  Draco rolled his eyes.

        "Well sure, thanks for asking," he replied sarcastically.  Pansy sat down on the couch looking like she was trying to be both alluring and furious; it didn't work.  "So what is it Pansy?" he asked boredly, looking back to the book he was holding.  

        "Are you _sure you meant to say that last night?" she blurted out.  Draco smirked._

        "I'm quite sure I did.  That's why I said it."  Pansy's eyes narrowed.  

        "Why though? I mean, it was going so well, and then you just…_end _it?!?" she shrieked, starting get a little colored from anger.  "Without warning or anything? And in front of our _friends?!?"  Draco nodded._

        "Yes _dear_, without warning, in front of our friends."  Pansy pouted.

        "But I don't understand."  

        "Frankly, you're overwhelmingly…well, overwhelmingly you.  Now I'll talk to you later, drop me an owl and all that, bye bye now."  Pansy's jaw dropped and she started to say something, but Draco's well trained house elves had come in and were now dragging her out by her arm.  Draco sniggered as he watched her trip on the hallway carpet protesting loudly.

        "Draco sweetie, get these creatures off me!!!"  Draco just swiveled his chair around so he was facing the window and started to read about the nature of dogs chasing cats in his book.

--

        Hermione took out her wallet.  "All right, I've got a ton of Muggle money and it's been ages since I've gotten new clothes…are you up to the challenge?"  Ginny jumped up glad for the interruption; the Muggles on the news were getting increasingly annoying.  

        "Yes! I'll be glad to do it."  Hermione grinned.  

        "OK good.  I need pants, shirts, shoes…" she paused.  "Well, everything really."  Ginny laughed.

        "Everything's my specialty."  Ginny ran in her room and slid her sneakers on, grabbing her purse as she wiped some lip gloss on hurriedly.  With a nod to Hermione they popped out of their apartment.  

--

        Five hours later, they collapsed on their sofa, exhausted.  Hermione clutched three bags while Ginny clasped five.  She gave Hermione an embarrassed grin.  "And this was supposed to be a trip for you!"  Hermione laughed.

        "Hey I got loads of stuff," she replied pointing to her bags.  Ginny started to happily unpack her new clothes when Helena came flying in.  Hermione jumped up.

        "Fastest owl I've ever seen!" Ginny said in amazement as Hermione untied the letter from her owl's leg.  She read it through quickly and smiled mischievously.  Ginny looked at her curiously.

        "What's up 'Mione?"  Hermione looked up and shook her head.  "Come on tell me!"  

        "No! Now come on, it's time for you to go to work." Ginny groaned.

        "You got to skip work why can't I?" She moaned.  Hermione tapped her on the head with the parchment.

        "Because if you don't go everyone will think you've gone 'round the bend because of Bleach Boy," she explained simply.  Ginny sighed.  

        "You're right I suppose.  All right, I'd better get out of my sweats then."  Hermione watched Ginny walk into her room with her carrier bags and then she looked at the letter in her hands again.

        "My, won't this be fun?"  

--

        Thirty minutes later, Hermione brushed up Ginny's makeup with a stroke of the eye brush.  "There! No one could tell you were bawling your eyes out just last night," she said, blending the eyeshadow in.  Ginny smiled gratefully.

        "Thanks."

        "No problem.  I've got nothing better to do anyway," she replied, putting the makeup brush in its little pot.  Ginny looked at herself in the mirror; the dark circles were gone, hidden by concealer, and instead her eyes looked their sparkly best.  She pouted in the mirror and then cracked up laughing at the horrible attempt.  

        "Well, I'd better be off then," she said, giving Hermione a hug before she went.  Ginny looked at her waitress' outfit making sure no mysterious stains were on it before popping out of sight.

        Hermione waited a minute or two to make sure she had really gone before rushing into the living room.  She checked the oven clock; 5:13.  Breathing a sigh of relief, she took out her wand.  It wouldn't hurt to touch things up a bit.

        It really was a very good thing that Hermione had magic to help her, because it would have taken a Muggle five hours to clean up the mess she cleared with her wand.  She pointed her wand at the stereo and started dancing as she cleaned, shimmying as she made everything sparkle.  Hopping to the beat, she made the dishes wash themselves.  Muggle music had been one thing that wizards couldn't substitute; they really knew how to make it good.  Hermione bounced around the room cleaning the windows, levitating clothes to get in their proper drawers and wiping the counters.  She was just getting really into it, jumping a couple feet into the air on every other beat (with the help of her wand of course) when she heard a 'pop'.  She brought herself back down to the ground and flushed when she saw the amused face of Draco Malfoy looking at her.  Quickly switching off the stereo she motioned for him to sit.  He obliged, looking around.

        "So is this just your apartment then?" he asked, noticing how big it was for a London flat.  She shook her head, sitting across from him.

        "No, I have a roommate."  Draco leaned back in his seat.  

        "Anyone I'd know?"  Hermione rapidly searched for an answer that wouldn't give Ginny away.

        "She's out; she's got work."  This dodging of questions had been Hermione's specialty in the latter part of her school life.  It would always fool Harry and Ron, who never thought to get the correct answer to their question.  Draco, however, was different.

        "Oh…" he said, recognition coming over his face.  He looked innocently at Hermione.  "So which room is the Weasel's?"  She glared at him but pointed it out anyway.

        "That one."  Draco peered in and smirked.  

        "Must be nice, going from her old shack of a house to this dump."  Hermione clasped her wand very tightly.

        "Look Malfoy, all I want is two minutes of your time and then you're out of here," she said with tight lips, willing herself not to curse the living crap out of him.  He shrugged.

        "Fine. Go ahead."  

        Hermione leaned forward taking a big breath.  "If you think that we're just going to take your shit like school, you're gravely mistaken.  I'm not threatening you or anything physical like that, but you'd better watch it Malfoy; we don't care why you may be saying things to hurt people, but if it doesn't stop soon-"

        "What? You're going to tell on me?" he asked in a bored tone.  

        "No. But you'll have to live with yourself knowing you caused people so much pain," she replied simply.  "Ginny was just doing her job; granted, she didn't want to serve your table, but she did it anyway.  And for you to bring up her most traumatic memories ever is completely unacceptable."  Draco was inwardly impressed despite himself, but kept up the indifferent guise.

        "Well look who's gone all McGonagall on us," he said smirking.  Hermione breathed in deeply.

        "Just watch it."  Suddenly, Draco found himself being propelled through the door and then having it slammed in his face.  

        "This should be interesting," he said quietly, before Apparating out of sight.

--

Promises for Next Weekend:

-Draco and Ginny meet again

-Hermione talks to Ron and Harry

-Pansy makes a cameo

how special! Now you can mark it on your calendars.  :-) 


	4. Freestyling Mercury

        It had been a month since what Hermione and Ginny now called The Crappy Day.  Pansy and Draco's breakup had resulted in a very angry Pansy interviewing for all of the wizarding tabloids, such as _Mercury and _The Daily Spark_.  Draco was now being sought after as the 'Richest Eligible Bachelor in England'.  Hermione and Ginny had a good long laugh after reading that, giggling at Draco's brooding face taking up the entire front page and the tiny picture that they had included of Pansy yelling.  _

        A week after the articles had calmed down, Ginny was rummaging in the fridge for a late night snack; 12:46 and she was starved.  Geoff had given her tonight off on the accounts of reporters coming 'round to ask them both about Draco's breakup and the food; in short, it was a madhouse.  She sat down, comfortable in her fuzzy green pyjama pants, and her eye caught the now old newspaper.  Carefully picking it up, she grabbed a quill that was lying about and meticulously drew a bushy moustache on Draco's face.  It completely ruined his smirk.  The Draco in the picture scowled and tried to rub it off, to no avail.  Ginny giggled, turning the paper over and laying down the quill.  With a pint of Ben and Jerry's in hand, she flopped onto the couch and turned the TV on, captions included so that Hermione wouldn't wake up and be cranky with her.  

        '_Stock markets have crashed alarmingly today…"_ the now mute newscaster was saying and Ginny sighed, changing the channel.  She never understood the Muggle stock market, no matter how many times Hermione and Harry had tried to explain it to her and her brother.  '_Oh Charles…you are my sun and moon…I can't live without you,' _a heaving blonde was saying.  Ginny snuggled herself into the couch popping a bite of ice cream into her mouth giggling silently to herself.  Soap operas she got without explanation.  '_Joanna, I love you like I never loved my wife!' the tall man with dark hair declared through captions.  Joanna was just opening her mouth, probably only to place it on his gaping gob, when Hermione's door creaked open to reveal a grumpy looking Hermione behind it.  Ginny picked up the remote and sheepishly turned the television off. _

        "Er sorry.  Couldn't sleep?" Ginny offered, trying to discreetly hide the ice cream behind her.  Without a word, Hermione walked over to her and grabbed the ice cream bucket out of her hand.  

        She looked at it and read the title off of it.  "'Go Phish.' Oh I get it- a pun," Hermione said, not sounding like she got it at all.  Ginny got up on her knees and grabbed for the ice cream, failing her attempt.  

        "Oh give over Hermione, I'm hungry!" she whined when Hermione started walking back towards the freezer.  

        "No ice cream, I thought we agreed!" Hermione said, throwing the ice cream back in.  "I thought we were dieting together! What happened to 'we're in this together Hermione, we'll look gorgeous for that event!'" Hermione mocked, looking increasingly bad tempered.  Ginny leaned back, frowning.

        "I don't even want to go to that bloody social thing," she muttered, crossing her arms.  Indeed, ever since she had heard about it the idea hadn't been appealing.  

        Her mum had owled them in good spirits, informing them that an invitation to the Ministry of Magic's Annual Social was going to be held shortly.  Ginny had scowled and said "My mother is the only one I know who would owl us about an incoming owl."  Almost immediately after receiving her mother's owl, a Ministry owl came flying in, bearing a thick cream envelope with the Ministry seal on it.  Hermione had opened it excitedly, squealing when she saw her name embossed in bold.  It had declared that every Ministry member may bring 'one friend', to which Hermione immediately looked at Ginny with huge puppy pleading eyes.  At first Ginny had been very difficult, saying she had work, had a show to watch, _anything_ to get out of the Social.  Ginny never liked dances and such, even in Hogwarts she hadn't liked them- especially since the one where she had emerged with countless blisters from Neville stepping on her feet.  But in the end, Hermione had won, and Ginny was going to the Social as her 'friend' mentioned in the letter.  Hermione had excitedly owled Harry and Ron, and found out that Harry was going dateless and Ron (who had taken over for his father when he retired) was as well.  Needless to say, this information made both girls much happier.

        "Oh come on, you can stun Harry out of his socks with a gorgeous outfit," Hermione said teasingly.  Ginny turned scarlet, throwing a pillow at her head.  

        "You know perfectly well he doesn't wear socks," Ginny answered, sounding like the crush-stricken girl she was in school. Hermione raised an eyebrow but dropped that particular subject.

        "Point in fact is that you're coming whether you like it or not.  Besides, it's Muggle Dress, and that's your line of specialty.  You'll look fab, you know you will."  Ginny considered this.

        "Yeah you're right I will," she replied roguishly, running into her room and shutting the door behind her.  A muffled 'G'night!' came from it, making Hermione grin and walk into her own room to get some sleep.

--

        The next day, Hermione was up at 5:45, going through her clothes in exasperation.  Though she'd never admit it, today was the day before the Social, the day where the dateless become…dateful.  Practically from the time she had met him, Hermione had only been after one guy: Ronald T. Weasley.  It was painful how much she liked him, maybe even loved him, but she never could make the first move.  Hell, she hadn't even had a boyfriend until 7th year, and even then Seamus was just a friend who happened to be with her more often than usual.  He had supplied her first kiss, sure, but Hermione failed to see what was so special about kissing.  It was all wet and uncomfortable, with neither participant knowing where to put themselves.  Or maybe that was just her.  

        She held up a pair of black pants critically before her, inspecting them to deem their worthiness.  Tossing them on her bed into the 'Maybe' pile, Hermione continued to seek her perfect outfit.  Exasperated, she sat down heavily on her bed, clutching a pair of flip flops in despair.  She looked up and met the raised eyebrow of Ginny.  

        "Ron won't care Hermione," she said simply, sitting next to her.  Hermione was startled.

        "But- how did you know?" she asked, at a loss.  Ginny laughed.

        "Hermione, if no one else knows besides me, the world is blind.  And that goes for my git of a brother too."  She looked down at the pile of clothes Hermione had assembled on the bed.  "You know, you're not doing so badly by yourself here."

        "Really?" Hermione asked anxiously, desperately needing to hear 'yes'.  Ginny nodded.

        "Yeah…these trousers and this top would be smashing, don't you think?" Ginny asked, holding up the black pants from before and a red shirt that plunged not too low, but low enough for the purpose.  Hermione took it from Ginny's hands, weighing the clothes in her efficient mind.  

        "I suppose so…" Ginny smiled, relieved.

        "Good. Now I'm going to get changed and then you're going to go to work while I walk around, and then you'll meet me at the coffee shop and relay all the details to me. Understood?"  Hermione saluted smartly.

        "Yes ma'am! All clear _ma'am!"  Ginny grinned and left Hermione to get changed.  _

--

        Ginny had gone off to do her walking thing and Hermione was nervous.  Upon putting the aforementioned shirt on, she realized that although Ginny was right in saying it looked good, it made her extremely self conscious about her chest area.  It drew much more attention than she was going for; but that was good right?  Taking a deep breath, she walked through the portal and was whisked into the Ministry office.  As usual, the bombardment of memos and urgent notices were thrust at her, and she waved them away; her daily routine, once again began.  Outside, it was gray like London always is (unless you're extremely lucky) and it was gray inside, but Hermione was hoping to glimpse the flash of red she longed to impress.

--

        Sunglasses are unnecessary on a cloudy day, but Ginny always had a pair perched on her head or in front of eyes; she found they made her look mysterious, and she liked that.  Today, she wasn't in the Muggle realm, since she had a lot of preparing to do for this Social thing.  Muggle products weren't going to cut it for how stunning she'd have to look.  

        For Ginny, the Social wasn't about impressing Harry like countless people had hinted at her.  It wasn't even about being the prettiest one there, although it was a tempting proposition.  No, Ginny knew that all the wizarding Big Shots would be there, looking around and talking to people…maybe offering jobs.  And as much as Ginny loved Geoff to death, she couldn't spend another _minute_ in that restaurant.  It was time to make something out of the female counterpart of the recent Weasley generation.

        Ginny strode across Diagon Alley as if her feet had little wings towards Frieda Ferlaterio's Freestyling: a fancy term for a salon.  She opened the door carefully and a little bell went off somewhere in the depths of the salon.  Barely being heard over the magical whirring of the machines, Ginny stood waiting for service for a good five minutes before someone noticed her.  

        A short witch with flyaway black hair came up to her, a comb in her teeth.  She spat it out into her hand and smiled up at Ginny, who smiled nervously back.  "First time dearie?" she asked, making it sound like a bartender at an eighteen year old's party.  

        "Err yes I suppose so," Ginny replied, looking around and wondering whether she had made the right decision.  The witch saw her hesitation and grabbed her arm quickly.

        "I guarantee a satisfied mirror at the end, or your money back and a free re-makeover," she offered, scribbling something down and peering at Ginny's hair.  Ginny sighed.

        "Fine, work your magic," she said wearily.  At this point, someone else doing all the hard work was welcome.  The witch beamed.

        "Excellent! By the way, I'm Frieda, so you don't have to worry," she assured Ginny, pointing to the large banner above the counter which bore her name.  Ginny laughed weakly.

        "I won't."

        "Good.  Let's get started shall we?"  Frieda motioned for her to sit.  Confused, Ginny obeyed.  "First off, I have to ask- is that dyed?" she asked, looking at Ginny's hair enviously.  Ginny couldn't believe her ears; someone wanted _her_ hair that was so un-agreeable?

        "No, not it's not actually," she replied.  Frieda's thick black eyebrows shot up and she scribbled something down rapidly.

        "Lovely!  And your usual daily makeup?" she inquired.  Ginny didn't know what _that had to do with anything, but she answered anyway._

        "Mascara, lip gloss, blusher," she rattled off, making sure she got everything, even though 'everything' was barely anything.  Frieda was now writing so fast that steam was coming from under her quill.  Ginny watched in alarm, but Frieda stopped writing just at the moment it was about to burst into flames.  

        "All right then, let's get started!"  Ginny found herself being propelled forwards by at least three house elves into a chair, where Frieda gleefully advanced on her hair, wand outstretched.

--

        "I don't want to bloody go!" Draco yelled into the phone.  "You _know I hate those kinds of things…and with the bloody press everywhere, it's enough to drive me mad!" Frustrated, he groped about on his desk for a drink and his hand met the cool, comforting glass surface of his brandy glass.  He downed it, winced at the sweetness of the liquid and resumed yelling.  "Especially if I have to get in a sodding suit, now wouldn't that just top it off?" Draco slammed the phone down, heaving.  Taking another small sip of brandy, he shook himself and was composed once again.  The invitation to the Ministry Social was lying on his desk, half open like it was a death threat.  He eyed it suspiciously before getting up and pacing around the room in an anxious circle._

        "If I go, the press won't leave me alone…" he muttered.  "…but if I don't show up, they'll say something about how much I'm pining for Pansy or some crap like that."  Stopping dead, he weighed his options; neither looked very promising.  However, the thought of having people think that he _missed _his pug-faced ex made him cringe, so it looked like Draco Malfoy had only one option in reality.  He had to go.

        Grabbing his coat, he yelled to Marvelle that he was taking a walk and would be back in an hour or so.  "I need some time to think," he explained to the blank but curious stare of the house elf.  She nodded and went back to the laundry without another glance.  Draco snatched a piece of bread and Apparated to Diagon Alley in the same instant.

        As a result, he ended up in front of a beauty salon with a piece of bread shoved in his mouth.  Needless to say, he got some questioning looks, as if inquiring about his sanity.  He scowled darkly at the offenders and swallowed the bread, the lump getting caught frequently on its way down his throat.  The lights of the beauty salon were twinkling annoyingly in his eye: Frieda Ferlaterio's Freestyling.  "What a God awful name," he mumbled, scowling at the bright lights.  A flash of blonde hair caught his eye from inside the parlor and he groaned despite himself.  The _last _thing he needed was Pansy!  Unfortunately for Draco though, she had very keen eyesight and immediately ran out to grab him.  He turned around quickly to escape into the Quidditch store but she was much too fast for him.  She pulled him in the salon, deaf to his bellowed cursing, and threw him on a chair opposite one of those whirly machines.  Sitting herself down, Draco couldn't help but admire her strength; she was incredibly…_beefy for a short girl like herself.  _

        "Good God Pansy, what do I need to do to get it through your head?" Draco asked in complete irritation.  She smiled coyly at him.

        "Get what through my head?"

        "A bullet," Draco answered immediately.  "Got a gun anywhere sweet?"  Pansy's face changed from flirtatious to terrified in an instant, making Draco smirk in triumph.

        "Oh relax, I'm not going to shoot you," he said, wishing to add 'although I wish I could.'  

        "Of course, I knew that," Pansy replied, trying to save some face.  Draco snorted.

        "You don't know jack.  Now can I please leave?" Draco asked, attempting to be polite but getting up despite Pansy's lack of an answer.  

        "No!" she protested as a blue haired witch began highlighting her hair.

        Draco rolled his eyes and pushed open the door slightly.  "I wasn't waiting for your answer," he said matter-of-factly.  Pansy's expression faltered.

        "I-I know that, but-"

        "Honestly Malfoy, would it kill you to hear her out?" came a voice from the back.  Draco and Pansy both jumped, then narrowed their eyes.

        "Who is that?" Draco asked the Unknown Voice, obviously annoyed, at the same time Pansy exclaimed "_Thank you!" _

        The person chose not to answer.  Pansy looked up at Draco beseechingly.  "Could you just please listen to me?" Draco sat down, disgruntled.

        "Talk." 

--

        An hour later, Pansy's entire head was much blonder and Draco was much more bored.  He checked his watch, but it was only two more minutes after his last check of the time.  He hadn't been listening to a word the distressed blonde in front of him had been saying, but it was still possibly the most aggravating event he'd ever had to sit through.  Pansy was just in the middle of explaining why their kids would have been beautiful when Draco stood up.  "I have to leave no.  Fascinating although your story was, I don't think I'll be considering being your lapdog anytime soon.  Good day."  He nodded his head and left before she could get started on another rant.  

        Outside the store, Draco leaned against the wall and breathed in, feeling lucky to be alive after that torture.  He conjured up a chair and sat looking at the people who went by with narrowed eyes, as if daring them to come closer.  The door opened again, and Draco pressed himself up against the wall just in case it was Pansy come out to talk to him again.  To his surprise, it was someone else, and from the looks of her was nothing like Pansy was.  He watched curiously as she walked on and then a jolt of shock went through him when he saw a piece of red hair peek out from under her headscarf.  "Weasley," he breathed, thinking maliciously of all the idle insults he could make while passing her.  He got up, made the chair disappear and followed her, his long strides out striding her only ever so slightly.  It wasn't so long before he caught up to her.  "So-" She stopped and turned around, her brown eyes up to the brim in dislike.

        "So what Malfoy?  Come to thrust another unwanted memory on me?  A Harry joke?  Maybe a Weasley one, is it the red hair, freckles, or money problem you're going to address this time?" she spat, taking Draco completely by surprise.  "Is it a 'you just tag along' wisecrack, my those were popular," Ginny ranted, feeding off of the look of shock on his face.  "Or-"

        "A ferret joke?" he cut in, deciding to get his own back.  "Or a peroxide related insult?  Or maybe you're not going to bother with the appearance crap and cut straight to blood- Malfoy blood.  Going to tell me that I should rot in Azkaban like my father Weasel?" he asked her, getting steamed up himself.  Her confident demeanor wavered for a second before she straightened herself up.

        "What, switching this around to you?  It always has to be about you, doesn't it Malfoy?  Some things never change," she added, looking at his expensive looking outfit.  Draco raised an eyebrow.  

        "I seem to recall a certain someone making it about her," he countered scathingly.  "How do you know I wasn't just going to say 'So how are things?' or 'So I hear you're still tall' or something like that?" Ginny looked at him as though he were the stupidest person she had ever encountered.  

        "Because the Draco Malfoy I know would never even consider it," she whispered.  There was one second's pause before Ginny turned and walked away, heels clicking on the cobbled stones evenly.  Draco glared at her back, angrier than he had been when he got the Social invitation.  All of a sudden, a glimmer of an idea formulated in his practiced mind; he yelled out after her "Are you going to this Social thing?"  Ginny stopped and turned on her heel.  

        "If you're going too then I fail to see how it will be enjoyable," she said, and then Apparated out of sight.  Draco laughed to himself for a brief moment, thinking of the fun games he would execute on Miss Virginia Weasley the next night.

--

**A/N: **okay first off, I want to say I hated my last chapter and wanted to make it up to you.  I like this chapter actually, and I hope you guys do too.  I want to thank Lucy (can't remember your special characters, sorry!) and Violante, who have reviewed me and made me keep on going. Thanks! 

And I know I promised a Harry and Ron sighting, but it just didn't fit in this chapter.  I _promise _they'll be in next chapter- it is the Social after all.


	5. Prove It

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the response on the last chapter! :) It made me very happy.  Oh, and for those who want certain ships, I generally only write a few.  I won't tell you which ones I'm using in this one, but it should be fairly obvious after this chapter...and don't decide in your mind who you think they are until the end of the chapter!  This chapter was draining…it might be a little bit before the next one, sorry.

---

            "Hermione!" Her heart gave an unpleasant jolt when she heard her name being called from behind her.  She turned around, fixing a smile on her face.

        "Yes Ron?"  Ron opened his mouth to ask if she wanted a muffin, but he closed it in happy shock.  Hermione looked very pretty, in her red top and soft brown locks resting on her back.  He gulped slightly and held up a blueberry muffin.

        "Do you want a muffin?" he asked, noticing with dislike how stupid that sounded.  However, Hermione grinned and reached for it.  

        "How did you know?" she teased, telling herself inwardly not to blow it; Ginny had specifically ordered her to be like she was usually.  

        Ron shrugged, looking boyishly adorable.  "Well, seeing as you ask for one every morning, I figured today wouldn't be any different."  As Hermione smiled and thanked him, both knew that today was probably already as different as it could go.  

--

        Hermione snorted with laughter, holding a napkin to her mouth to hold in the muffin pieces.  Ron sat, laid back in a pulled up chair next to Hermione's desk laughing with her.  "Are you serious?" she spluttered, wiping her mouth hurriedly.

        "Completely!  Malfoy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor," Ron chuckled, chugging down some coffee.  Memos forgotten, the two had fallen into a conversation about Draco's dumping of Pansy after Ginny and Hermione had left the restaurant on The Crappy Day.  Hermione calmed herself down with a sip of orange juice, thinking.  

        "You know, I wonder what it was that made him do it," she remarked thoughtfully, absently twirling a quill in her hand.  "From what I heard, they were a true couple made in Hell."  Ron laughed again, putting down his coffee.

        "It was like once he came back from the bathroom, or wherever he was, he realized how repulsive she was," he replied, chortling.  Hermione made a face.

        "I don't want to know how that came about," she said grimacing.  Ron almost choked on his coffee.

        "Hermione that is just…erg."  Ron's face was one of horror and disgust.  Hermione reached over and patted his shoulder.  

        "It's ok Ron, just don't think about it," she mocked.

        "How can you _leave me like this Draco!" he imitated Pansy in an uncanny way, making Hermione giggle and other people stare.  "I thought we were _happy! _You no good son of a-" _

        "Ahem."  They looked up sharply to see Harry looking down on them, amused.  "Shouldn't you two be working?" he asked with a laughing look in his eyes.  Hermione blushed; Harry always could see right through them, even in their school days.  Ron rolled his eyes.

        "Oh come off it, how many people here actually work?" he said, waving his arm around.  The three looked around them.  Every single person was either scribbling furiously away or tapping efficiently on a Whizz (sort of wizarding computers).  Ron gave them both a sheepish grin.  "I stand corrected."  

        "Sorry Harry," Hermione apologized, still tempted to laugh at the memory of Ron acting out a wounded Pansy Parkinson.  Harry shrugged.

        "Nah, it looks like you guys are having a much better time than me anyway," he said, sitting down in a nearby vacant chair.  "So what's up?"

        "Not much, just laughing about Malfoy's dumping of Parkinson," Ron explained, handing him some coffee which Harry took gratefully. 

        "Ah yes, that was a memory," Harry said, looking ready to laugh.  "I mean, how often do you see someone get salad dressing dumped on an arrogant prick?"  Hermione moaned.

        "I wish I had been there dammit!" she said, but then quickly remembered why she hadn't been there.  "I also wish Ginny had been there to see it…I daresay it would have given her something to laugh about."  Ron and Harry frowned.

        "Whatever happened to her that night?" Harry wondered aloud.  Hermione realized her mistake; the two girls had silently agreed not to say anything about what had happened after her departure from the restaurant.  

        "She just got tired," Hermione lied.  

        "Is she coming in today?" Harry asked, looking slightly hopeful.  Hermione shook her head.

        "She's getting ready for the Social," she said.  Ron groaned.

        "God that thing's going to be so boring," he said.  Hermione grinned, the mischievousness of the smile unnoticed by the two men.

        "Maybe."

--

        An owl swooped into Ginny's window the next morning, landing on her heavily and therefore waking her up.  Ginny groaned and sat up, fixing her scarf and blinking sleepily at the bird.  "What do you want?" she asked, slight irritation in her voice.  The previous night had been none too successful in the sleep department, despite the fact that she had gotten back from work at a relatively early hour; nightmares of the upcoming Social plagued her.  One had included her falling down the sweeping staircase and ending up on her head so that her dress came down and she was exposed for the world to see.  Besides for Harry, Ron and Hermione laughing heartily, one smirk had made the nightmare inexplicably worse.  The bird hooted at her impatiently, making Ginny roll her eyes and grab the letter it held in its beak. 

        "You couldn't have flown far," she mused as she opened the blank envelope.  "You have it in your beak, not around your leg."  The owl hopped to the foot of the bed and began to peck the wood as Ginny read:

_Dear Ginny,_

_        I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind going to the Social with me?  If you already have a date or whatever then I apologize, and I'll see you there.  _

_-Harry_

        Ginny's mouth opened in shock.  She re-read the paper to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her; the evidence was in.  Ginny Weasley had been invited to the Ministry Social by Harry Potter.  Squealing, she jumped out of bed and went to go pound on Hermione's door.  Hermione came bolting out of her room at breakneck speed, looking as excited as Ginny was.  They crashed into each other. 

        "Ouch!" Hermione said, rubbing her head.  Ginny grinned.  

        "Sorry, sorry, but look!" she shoved the letter into Hermione's face.  Hermione scanned it quickly and then laughed.

        "It's about time!" she exclaimed, hugging her ecstatic friend.  Ginny hugged her back and then pulled away, looking at Hermione's uncharacteristically flushed face. 

        "What's up with you?" she asked curiously.  Hermione shyly (another difference from her regular personality) handed her the piece of parchment clutched in her hand.  

_Hey 'Mione!_

_        So that Social thing's tonight.  That should be a blast eh (if you can't tell I'm sarcastic here we really need to get in touch more often)?  Harry's inviting Ginny (with my blessing of course) and I figured that since everyone else is going to be with someone that we might as well too.  Want to go with me?_

_-Ron_

        Ginny giggled.  "'With my blessing'…stupid prat."  She hugged Hermione again, happy for her friend.  "That's so like Ron, to make it as un-awkward as he can make it." Hermione grinned.  

        "I think we're going to have a good time."  

        "Me too! And the dress you chose is SO perfect, Ron will forget all about the 'awkwardness'", Ginny assured Hermione, who had the flickerings of panic on her face.  They disappeared after Ginny's well placed reassurance. 

        "Thanks. You too you know, although how weird will it be to see you and Harry together?" Hermione remarked, making Ginny go crimson.  

        "Shut up, we'll make a _lovely couple," Ginny replied, sticking out her tongue.  _

        "Up for a morning of lazing about in front of the telly?" Hermione asked, flinging herself onto the couch and grabbing the remote.

        "Don't you have work?" Ginny asked, getting out a couple of sheets of parchment and quills, walking over to her.  Hermione shook her head.

        "They're giving us the day off to get ready for the Social," Hermione said.  Ginny raised her eyebrows, impressed.  

        "Lucky bitch," she said fondly, starting to write. 

        "Hey you got off work tonight too!" Hermione protested, but Ginny was deaf to her roommate as she wrote a reply to Harry.

_Hi Harry._

_        No, I don't have a date, so you're in luck; doubly so because I want to go with you.  I'll meet you at the place (the __Pentagon__Plaza__ was it?) at __eight o'clock__.  _

_-Ginny_

        Satisfied, Ginny folded it up and put it in the beak of the expectant owl that had followed her into the living room.  It flew away out the skylight, and Ginny watched it go happily.  Tossing some parchment and a quill to Hermione, she went over to the fridge to get a yogurt for herself.  Hermione caught it and looked down at the parchment, at a loss of what to write.  

_Dear Ron,_

_        I reckon we could do that.  See you at eight. _

_-Hermione_

_        Short, to the point…_Hermione mused as she surveyed her letter.  The letter seemed all right to her, so she gave it to Pigwidgeon (who had never really gotten very big but was every bit as enthusiastic) who flew away excitedly through the skylight.  She watched in alarm when another brown owl nearly crashed into Pig, but dodged him, and came down to Hermione.  "Busy day for the post," she muttered, untying the letter from its leg.

_Ginny and Hermione-_

_        A bunch of the girls are going out for pre-Social cocktails (who I mean by "the girls" are Padma, me, Lav, Hannah and Suzy) at La Mira Bar at around __7:00__ before we meet our dates…interested?_

_        RSVP ASAP_

_-Parvati (and Dean!! :) ) _

        Hermione laughed, making Ginny look up from her yogurt.  "What's up?" 

        "Parvati's so excited from moving in with Dean," she said, looking back down at the letter.  "She seems pretty jolly."  Ginny rolled her eyes.

        "She didn't write you a letter just to tell you she's happy with Dean, what did she write?" she asked impatiently.  Hermione, who had gotten used to Ginny's lack of patience, merely smiled.  "Oh come on Hermione you know that drives me insane!" she groaned.  

        "Yeah I know…but anyway," she continued hastily, seeing Ginny's glare, "they want us to come for cocktails before the Social."  Ginny shrugged, indifferent.  

        "Whatever.  I need to be ready soon anyway…" Ginny looked at her watch and her jaw dropped.  "We slept so late!"  Hermione looked up.

        "Why, what time is it?" 

        "It's already 2!" Ginny shrieked, falling off of her kitchen stool in her frenzy.  She got up quickly, her eyes daring Hermione to laugh.  Hermione bit her lip and submersed the laughter.  "We need to get ready, what are you _doing _watching telly?!?" she yelled running into her room, yogurt still in hand.  Hermione was about to laugh it off when Ginny's words hit her: 2 o'clock?!?

        "Oh sweet Jesus!" she yelped, bolting for her room as well.  

--

        "I hate this," Draco said through clenched teeth.  His house elf Marvelle, who was measuring him to make sure the suit still fit, looked up at him with coaster sized eyes.  

        "Sir must go!" she pleaded with him.  "If sir doesn't show up, them will thinks you is still sad about Miss Parkinson sir!" Draco looked down at the elf with loathing, but grudgingly admitted she was right.

        "But why in the bloody hell do I have to wear a Muggle suit?" he asked in fury.  Marvelle flinched.  

        "Please sir, Marvelle does not know," she said, cowering.  He sighed in impatience.  

        "That's it, I'm not wearing it," he said, sounding like a child who didn't want to eat the vegetables.  

        "But then what will sir wear?" Marvelle asked, sounding dumbfounded.  

        "Sir will _wear whatever sir well damn pleases," Draco growled, storming out of the room into his own.  Marvelle's stammers of protest were shut out with a swift slam of the door.  Angry, he looked around his room for something else suitable to wear (A/N: no pun intended hahaha).  It was a losing battle.  He opened his closet doors forcefully and found himself looking at the countless Quidditch robes housed in there.  Cursing, he opened another closet._

        "Oh this is insane," he muttered as he rifled through the various trousers and tops.  "I'm like a ruddy girl choosing robes for the Yule Ball."  Finally too frustrated to continue, he yanked a random pair of trousers from their hanger and a black shirt and threw them on the bed.  Sinking down onto it, he put his head in his hands.  "My first time back in England and already I'm known nationwide for dumping a girl.  This bloody social isn't going to help any," he said into his hands tiredly.  

        True, it was his first time back in England.  Draco had known all too well the animosity English Quidditch fans harbored towards him and wasn't too keen to set foot where they lived again.  Even though they hated him for being Draco Malfoy, they seemed to hate him even more because he hadn't joined their Quidditch team…God knows they needed a decent Seeker.  However, Draco didn't mind too much; France is a beautiful country.  He learned to speak the language almost fluently, and it proved a useful tool when applied to talking with women.  The only reason he had come back was to fix something in his Gringott's account and that had somehow snowballed into Pansy Apparating to England to be with him (he didn't even know how she ended up in France in the first place) and then his staying at the Manor during the Quidditch break.  Truthfully, it had all been a kind of blur.  

        A very unwelcome, reddish sort of blur.

        As Draco began to get dressed, he thought about the girl who was making him so agitated these days, and for once it wasn't just Pansy.  Who knew that a little Weasley could make him so annoyed?  And then there was her friend trying to stick up for her, threatening him!  Well, that was almost laughable…well, it would have been if Hermione hadn't looked so scary and convincing.  He shuddered and went to look at himself in the mirror.  

        Perfect.

--

        "Hey!" Parvati squealed when she saw Hermione and Ginny approaching.  "Oh my God you two look great!" she said excitedly, giving them both hugs.  The two in question beamed; then again, if she hadn't said that Parvati might've found herself with leeks sprouting out of her ears for all the time they had put into their appearance that day.  Hermione looked stunning in a green dress that looked very earthy, but sexy at the same time with one shoulder strap.  Her hair was softly resting on her back which made her chocolate eyes seem ever bigger and prettier.  Ginny looked equally dazzling in a crimson dress that matched her hair, spaghetti strap with the strappy red shoes she practically worshipped.  She had finally taken off the worn bandanna she had been wearing ever since Frieda's the day before to reveal that Frieda had lengthened her hair so that it was halfway down her back, in beautiful little curls.  Ginny had had to fork over a handful of Galleons to get the job done…but it was definitely worth it. 

        They said hello to everyone, kissing cheeks and accepting compliments as they worked their way through to get to two empty bar stools.  Ordering two martinis, the girls looked around happily, unable to believe that the night had come at last.  

        "So how are you Hermione?" Ginny asked to fill the content silence.  Hermione grinned.

        "Not much Ginny," she replied rolling her eyes.  "You're weird, you know that?"  

        "I know that," Ginny answered, looking indignant that Hermione would dare to think anything besides.  

        "Hey Hermione," Suzy (as they all called her; she protested that Susan sounded old and frumpy) Bones called down the row.  Hermione stuck her head out to see her.

        "Yeah?"

        "Is it true you're going to this thing with Ron?" she asked curiously.  Hermione flushed and ducked out of sight.  Ginny made her presence known by yelling out "Who else would he take?" Everyone giggled while Hermione pretended to be very interested in the napkin holder.  Padma walked over, her black eyes glittering with amusement.

        "How long did it take him to ask you the, eh?" she asked.  Hermione grinned sheepishly.

        "Actually, he just asked me today."  Padma crowed with laughter.  

        "That stupid prat, leaving it to the last minute," she giggled.  "But then again, it took Seamus something like a year to propose," she added, looking down at the enormous diamond ring on her finger.  Hermione rolled her eyes.  

        "Well not all of us are married," she reminded her teasingly.  Padma crossed her eyes at her and went back to her seat next to her twin.  

        Two martinis later, the girls saw the time and ran out of the bar shrieking girlishly at their tardiness- 8:01 and all is well.

--

        Harry and Ron waited outside the Pentagon Plaza anxiously, checking their watches every two seconds.  "You think something's wrong?" Ron asked, squinting into the darkness.  Harry looked back at him and laughed.

        "You are crazy, you know that?" he said.  Ron shrugged and grinned.

        "Well maybe I am.  But she-_they_ should have been here…" he checked his watch again, "three minutes ago."  

        _Oh give it up, you're head over heels for her! _Harry felt like shouting at his friend, but over the years one thing Harry learned was self control.  He contented himself with a sigh and a shake of the head.

        "Besides, aren't you just _itching to see my sister all dolled up?" Ron asked slyly, a hint of amusement in his voice.  Harry wished he could have used the aforementioned self control to keep himself from blushing but it didn't work.  "Ha I knew it!" Ron said triumphantly.  _

        "Oh shut it," he mumbled, red as a beetroot now.  All of a sudden he heard Ron whistle slowly. 

        "Jesus Christ, look at them," he said, sounding completely disbelieving.  Harry didn't trust himself to look up until Ginny came up to him, smiling.  

        "Hullo Harry," she said softly.  He looked up; it took all he had not to let his jaw drop.  

        "Erm, hello Ginny," he said, suddenly feeling like he didn't know quite what to do with himself.  Next to him, Ron was having similar trouble.  

        "Hermione you look-well, you look…err…"  Hermione couldn't stop smiling, laughing inwardly at the very low comfort level her friend was having.  

        "Thanks," she replied quietly.  

        "Shall we go inside then?" Ginny asked everyone, choosing to ignore her older brother's blatant disapproval of her somewhat revealing outfit.  They all nodded, and hand in hand in hand in hand (there were four hands you see) they walked in.

--

        It had the air of an elegant dinner party with a touch of modern to it.  At the top of the stairs, two ghosts waited with a magical megaphone (also transparent and ghost-like) to announce the arriving parties.  Ginny felt like she was in an old book or something; the chandeliers and sparkling lights everywhere made her head spin with happiness.  Harry quietly told the ghost their names, who nodded and announced with great dignity, "Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Virginia Weasley."  Ginny felt like her face would crack open, for her smile took up her entire face.  People who had already arrived (a.k.a most of the invited party) looked up and some started whispering amongst themselves.  Ginny looked at Harry, her face lit up with ecstasy, and he squeezed her hand.  Walking down the steps slowly she giggled and whispered, "This feels unreal."  He nodded in agreement.

        "Like a Muggle movie," he said.  

        Back up at the top of the stairs, Ron was telling the ghost his and Hermione's names, who was looking around at the huge room in approval.  The twenty foot wide marble staircase led to the magnificent dance floor and tables, with a grand piano towards the floor length windows (which was at least 30 feet).  It truly felt like a dream. 

                "Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger," the ghost drawled into the microphone lazily, as if he had had enough of saying people's names.  The looks of relief on the people's faces below ("so they're _finally _doing something!") made Hermione laugh and Ron go purple with embarrassment.  They met Harry and Ginny at the bottom, who were being bombarded by representatives from _The Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and __The Daily Spark.  Ginny looked a little taken aback at the attention, but cooperated anyway.  Harry was much too used to the photographers to care, so he steered Ginny over to the punch quickly to avoid it.  Ron and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged, grimacing when the purple smoke came over in their faces._

                "Ugh I hate cameras!" Ron said in irritation as they waved it away with their hands frantically.

                "They're not exactly my favorite things either," Hermione said, grabbing his hand and pulling Ron away from the clouds of smoke.  

                Meanwhile, Ginny was drinking punch as Harry told her a work story, occasionally laughing for effect.  Truth is, she wasn't really listening, but downing her punch and wondering how they made it pink without the after effects of enamored behavior afterwards.  She was just about to excuse herself to get another glassful when the magical microphones spoke up again.

                "Mr. Draco Malfoy!" 

--

                Draco scowled darkly at the ghost.  "You bloody wanker, I didn't even tell you my name! I was just going to go down there!"  The ghost shrugged.

                "Not my concern sir, but with all due respect it'd take a blind man not to notice who you are."  Draco just glared at him and walked down the stairs, pretending that nothing had happened and everything was handy dandy.  There was a momentary silence, but the press broke it with the snapping of cameras and the excited yelled questions from the men in trench coats.  He sighed and turned to them.

                "I've been in France, I have no comments about being on their team, I'm here for a short time only and no, I'm not seeing her anymore."  Having answered all their questions, he hightailed it over to the punch table; he had a sudden craving for some alcohol.  The bartender looked at him strangely, to which Draco replied "Oh shove off" and grabbed the glass from his hand.  He chugged it quickly and leaned against the bar, looking around.

                _Looks like Longbottom's got a girlfriend…one as pudgy as him no less, Draco thought, smirking as he watched Neville and Hannah Abbot go by.  _And the Ravenclaw twin has gotten hitched to Lucky Charms over there…_he thought as he located Padma and Seamus.  __Hmm…who's the girl with Weasley? Oh Lord, it's Granger. What is the world coming to? came the thought when he saw Hermione and Ron together on the dance floor.  _Well they finally got together.  The whole world knew it was coming, it's about bloody time.  _Absently, he found himself looking for more red hair, but not of the male variety.  To his surprise, and grudgingly dislike, he found it linked arms with none other than Harry Potter himself.  This didn't make him too happy, but it made him much thirstier. Draco thought bitterly as he narrowed his eyes and drained his glass, _Is___ this a joke?  Like Potter could ever get someone like her.  Realizing how uncharacteristic this was of him and how jealous he felt of his former arch nemesis that very moment made him quite terrified.  The need for another drink became ever more urgent.  _

        --

                Ginny had noticed with alarm the immediate look of loathing Harry let show on his face when Draco was announced.  She was surprised despite her inner voice; she hadn't expected Draco to show up.  She and Harry had been talking to a large group of their former Gryffindor friends.  Parvati was now telling them a funny story about Dean's morning habits, which were needless to say making Dean very uncomfortable.  Ginny chanced a glance behind her to see Draco's very sour expression.  She suppressed a smile of triumph…_serves the bastard right.  Her glance backward forced her to look at the jet black sky outside, freckled with little diamonds that twinkled invitingly to her senses.  She looked back at the group she was talking to and found that outside seemed more appealing at the moment.  Fresh air would be much appreciated.  _

                "Harry," she said suddenly, making him jump.

                "Yes?" he replied.

                "I'm just going outside for a moment, I'll be back in a tick," she said, making him look concerned.  "Nothing's wrong," she added quickly.  "Don't worry."  He smiled softly.  

                "Hurry back," he advised.  Ginny, on impulse, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before steadying the champagne flute in her hand and walking briskly towards the doors.  She could hear her friends teasing Harry about them being together and she rolled her eyes.  

                She reached the doors soon enough thanks to her long strides, and she opened the doors dramatically and set a world of refreshing air upon herself.  Ginny breathed it in happily and sat down on a marble bench, sipping her champagne.  "Would you mind terribly if I joined you?" She looked up and her jaw dropped.

                "What do you think?" she replied scathingly, disgusted that Malfoy would even think she'd agree.  He shrugged and remained standing.

                "I'm trying to escape the press woman, don't take it personally," he said shortly, and this was true for the press had found him at the bar and proceeded to ask him about his drinking habits.  

                "Don't worry, I'm not."  Ginny decided that she would ignore him, so she drank the last of her champagne and looked up at the sky as she had planned to do.  There were no words exchanged as he sat down on the bench across from her and looked around, bored.  Suddenly-

                "What is it with you popping up everywhere?" Ginny burst out abruptly.  Draco looked up.  

                "Coincidence," was all he offered.

                "Coincidence!" she said, disbelieving.  "I don't believe in coincidence."  Draco snorted.

                "Well then fine, it doesn't exist.  Go get your horoscopes and talismans and let's figure out what put us here while reciting a tribal chant," he said very sarcastically.  Ginny narrowed her eyes in anger, the usual peppy spark in them extinguished from hating the person opposite her.

                "You are disgusting," she retorted.  

                "As if I haven't heard that before," he muttered. 

                "Doesn't that tell you something?" she burst out, not caring about her decibel level now.  "Don't you think it's time to be a little more open to people? Maybe, gasp, be _nice?_"  Ginny let a pause drop before going into her next tirade.  "Oh _no you couldn't let that happen could you, you're a Malfoy!" Draco stood up, his usually composed state disrupted.  _

                "Trying to pick a fight with me now little Weasel?  We were just sitting here, barely making eye contact, and you-you go mad!" he said, trying to make sense of it.  He had never flown into an argument so fast, and it bothered him.  

                She didn't seem to have a response for that.  "Yes well, you annoy me," she said in a somewhat unintelligible voice.  He laughed; yes laughed.  

                "And you annoy me too, congratulations.  Can I go inside now?"  he asked. 

                "Since when have you needed my permission?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  _Oh crap,_ he thought.  _A trap.  _

                "That's hardly the point."

                "On the contrary, I think it's _entirely the point," she said, looking curiously at him, hair over one eye.  Out of the blue Ginny started to laugh, and once she started she couldn't stop.  Draco scowled.  _

                "What's so funny?" he asked, annoyed.  

                "Are you madly in love with me or something?" she asked, giggling.  "Is it that you can't sleep at night for thinking about me and now you're _stalking me?" This idea seemed ludicrous to both Ginny and Draco.  For Ginny, it was merely an amusing idea fashioned to make her laugh.  For Draco, it was sheer madness.  _

                His mouth opened and closed in disbelief.  "Are you _joking?" he said, not able to believe his ears.  She nodded, laughing so hard the tears rolled off her cheeks._

                "Of course I'm joking you twit!" she replied, wiping her eyes with her hands.

                "Good," he said fiercely, picking up his coat.  

                "Oh are you leaving now?  Scared of little Ginny Weasley?" she taunted, enjoying her torment of him immensely.  He whirled around on his heel.  

                "What is the _matter with you?" he cried, throwing his coat down.  "First it's 'sod off Malfoy, throw yourself in a well' and now it's 'stay Malfoy or I'll tell my boyfriend you're scared of me'? You're _mad_!" he exclaimed, not realizing how loud he was being.  _

                "How do you even know I have a boyfriend?" Ginny countered defensively.  He snorted.

                "Well it's bloody hard not to notice when he's the other one the press is after," he replied smirking.  She rolled her eyes.

                "Oh, so you think because the press is following you around it makes you special?" 

                "Hardly," he said.  

                "You know what I think Malfoy?" she said after a second or two, the effects of the punch taking its toll.  "I think you're just an arrogant little boy who's scared of what people think of him."  Draco's eyes were reduced to slits in his anger.  

                "You have _no right to judge me Weasley, no one does."  _

                "Oh let me get out my little violin and play a sad song for the rich and powerful handsome young man," Ginny said, sounding as sarcastic as Draco.  He opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it in satisfaction.

                "So you think I'm handsome!" he said in triumph.  Ginny's eyes widened; her crucial mistake.  By letting that slip, she lost her upper hand in the argument.  "Well, not much you can say after that."  

                "You are _way too sure of yourself," Ginny said quietly, standing up to face him.  In her heels, she was about at eye level with him so she could stare him down.  Draco didn't flinch though, but held up the gaze with his steely iron eyes.  The conflict between the mahogany brown and icy metallic eyes was startling._

                "Only because I know I'm better," he breathed, with a superior smug look on his face.  She laughed softly, shaking her head.

                "In your dreams Malfoy."

                "Mature," he remarked, still having not removed his eyes from hers.  "Can you do no better than that?"

                "Of course I can," she replied, now only a few inches from his face.  In the nipping air each other's breath felt warm on their faces, and as much as they both hated to admit it, it felt good.  

                "Prove it."

                Ginny raised an eyebrow at the challenge, and without thinking of the consequences, or indeed without thinking at all, grabbed his head and kissed him hard.

--

--

_'s _


	6. You Don't Know What You've Got

**A/N: **This is just to thank you guys for supporting me.  It means a lot, even one little measly word for a review helps.  So if you read this, please review! All right. I left you at a cliffhanger so I'll just let you read then shall I?

_"Don't it always seem to go_

_That you don't know what you've got _

_'till it's gone?" –Joni Mitchell, 'Big Yellow Taxi'_

--

        Almost as soon as their lips made contact they broke away, both trying desperately to ignore the instant electrical shock sent through them.  Ginny's eyes were as wide as golf balls, her hand over her mouth in shock.  Draco's jaw had dropped.  "You really _are _mad," he stated bluntly. 

        "Now well aware of that fact," Ginny replied sharply.  "Ugh, that-that had to be some kind of spell!" Draco, who had sat down on the marble bench in shock, shot back up again, eyes blazing as fiery as ice can go.  

        "A spell!  Are you accusing me of bewitching you?" he yelled furiously.  

        "Yes! Yes I am," Ginny said facing him confidently, but it was her eyes (as always) that gave her away.  They were full of doubt and confusion.  

        "You're so full of shit Weasley.  I'm going back in, press or no press."  

        "Fine!" Ginny yelled after him, hugging her arms due to the cold.  "Go back to your bloody press!  Tell them how dashing you are and how rich, and what fun!"  

        "I will!" He bellowed back at her, getting inside and slamming the door behind him.  He looked around the cheerfully decorated ballroom and leaned against the wall wearily.  Such bright colors were too vivid for his eyes at night when he was tired.  "What a ruddy nightmare," he sighed, rubbing his temples and trying not to turn around and see what the girl was doing now outside.  Grabbing a champagne flute off of a passing cart, he sipped it deeply and then cracked the glass almost casually with his hands.  The shards of glass burst out onto the floor, blinking up at him innocently.  Scowling, Draco made his way around the dance floor, a silent observer of the happy groups.  

        His eyes narrowed when he saw the Trio from his school days: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.  Only in this case, Ron had his arm draped tentatively around Hermione's bare shoulders while Harry seemed to be looking for someone.  _He's here with Weasley so he's looking for her, _Draco realized quickly.  Smirking, he made his way over, gently pushing past people to do so.  When he got in front of them, it seemed as though the crowd parted for him to go through; they all saw who he was aiming for.  Harry looked up to see what was going on and raised his eyebrow when he saw the unwelcome guest in front of them.

        "What do you want Malfoy?" he asked tensely.  The press huddled excitedly around, flashing puffs of smoke on occasion.  

        "Well, I was rather hoping to ask _you that- you're looking for the Weaslette aren't you?" he asked.  Hermione started, just seeming to realize Ginny wasn't there.  Ron made a noise somewhat like a snarl in the back of his throat, which made Draco smirk more.  "What's wrong?" he asked, seeming genuinely concerned.  _

        "Why do you care?" Ron demanded, ignoring the last question.  

        "Oh I don't care about _her_ Weasley, don't get any ideas," Draco assured him lazily.  "No no, it's just that she seems to be bored out of her mind out there and I was just wanting to confirm whether it really was you, Potter, who invoked the boredom or not.  I got my answer."  Smirking nastily, he started to walk towards the staircase where he could make an exit.  Ron growled and started after him, but Hermione kept a surprisingly tight grip on his arm.  

        "Don't Ron, the cameras will catch every move," she hissed into his ear.  Ron stopped and sighed.

        "God what a prat," he and Harry muttered in unison.  Hermione laughed.

        "You two are incredible sometimes," she said as she waved the photographers away.  "I wonder why she _is outside though," she added frowning.  _

        "Maybe she _is_ bored," Harry said frowning.  "Should I have asked her to dance or something?" he asked Hermione suddenly, looking a little lost.  She grinned.

        "No way, she's never bored with you."  

        "Oh," Harry said, embarrassed.  "Well, I'll just wait here for her then, shall I?"  Ron shrugged.

        "Sure mate, but if she stays out there much longer I'd suggest being the chivalrous hero and all that, you know?" Harry nodded.  

        "Yeah you're right.  I'll give her five minutes." 

--

        "Oh my God," Ginny said aloud to no one in particular.  "Why did no one stop me?!?" she burst out abruptly, sending a few birds in nearby treetops to flight in fear.  "Oh this is ridiculous," she mumbled to herself, putting her head in her hands and groaning.  _Why did I kiss him? _Was the thought going 'round and 'round in her head as she sat there,  _I hate the bloody wanker, I wouldn't care if he disappeared off the face of the earth (again), in fact I'd be happy- so what with the smoochies?  "Smoochies?" she said, horrified at her choice of words.  "This is more serious than I thought."_

        The glass door opened up again making Ginny jump, but it was only Padma Patil who stood there this time, clad in a midnight blue dress.  "Ginny?"

        "Yeah hi," she replied absently, waving to a bench for her to sit on.  Padma sat, wrapping her gauzy silver shawl around her tightly.

        "It's chilly isn't it?" Padma asked Ginny, making idle conversation.

        "Yup."

        Padma brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and rummaged in her handbag.  She came out triumphant with a pack of cigarettes and breathed a sigh of relief as she lit it and took a drag.  "Thank God," she said gratefully, blowing out the smoke.  Ginny made a face and scooted away from the billowing smoke clouds.  "Yeah, Seamus doesn't like this either, I'm sorry," Padma apologized, seeing Ginny's expression and holding her hand so that the smoke would blow the opposite way.  "It's just a habit, you know?" Ginny nodded.

        "No, it's fine," Ginny reassured her.  "Fred's practically a smokestack sometimes, I'm used to it."  Padma laughed and took another drag.

        "Once," she reflected, "he took away all my fags and flushed them down the toilet.  He wouldn't even let me Apparate to the corner store to get a fresh pack!"  She exhaled the smoke thoughtfully.  "It was hell for a week- we couldn't stop fighting."  Even Ginny, who was then preoccupied, could hear the sadness tinged in Padma's voice.  

        Is everything ok…with you and Seamus I mean?" she intrigued hesitantly.  Padma looked up sharply and ground the cigarette under her heel.  

        "'Course.  Everything's just _dandy with him," she replied.  Ginny frowned.  _

        "No it's not, is it?" To Ginny's horror and surprise, Padma looked up with tears in her eyes.

        "No," she said softly.  "We can't agree on anything anymore Ginny…and at the end of these fights he just Apparates to a pub and comes back at 3 in the morning drunk as a duck."  Ginny felt a pang of sympathy for the older girl.  She and Seamus had married immediately following Hogwarts after a year and a half of dating, much to the dismay of Padma's mother Serena Patil.  Ginny recalled her saying 'Never marry an Irish man, they're all worthless drunkards!'  To everyone, they were Hogwarts' Cutest Couple, but apparently things had changed.

        "Oh Padma I'm so sorry," Ginny said, coming to sit next to her.  Padma shivered.  

        "It's all right.  We'll get through it.  We always do."  She looked at Ginny, a flicker of hope nestled in her eyes.  Ginny nodded and hugged her.

        "Of course you will.  If you-if you ever need to talk…"

        "Thanks."  There was a pause in which Padma lit another cigarette before the door opened again.  

        "Ginny?" 

        "Harry!"  _Holy shit, I forgot all about him! Ginny thought wildly, getting up and giving Padma a look like I've-got-to-go-now.  Padma nodded and waved goodbye as Ginny followed Harry back into the ballroom.  "I'm so sorry, I just-I needed some air."  Harry nodded, looking relieved._

        "That's good.  I thought maybe something was wrong?"  This was a question.  Ginny shook her head vigorously, picking up a chocolate covered strawberry and popping it in her mouth.  

        "No, it's fabulous here," she replied, looking around.  Harry looked at her closely.  

        "You're tired."

        Ginny looked up at him and sighed, stopping herself from reaching for another strawberry.  "I've been working a little more than usual lately," she explained.  Harry frowned again.

        "You know, I really could get you a nice job at the Ministry," he began, but Ginny cut him off.  

        "You know that scene didn't work out for me.  It's not what I want to do."  Harry raised an eyebrow that Ginny didn't like the look of.

        "And waitressing is?"  Inwardly shell-shocked, Ginny smiled and laughed.  _Ouch_.  

        "I'm working on it."  There was an awkward pause.  Harry sighed and looked at her: at her carefully concealed dark circles and exhausted eyes that flickered outside every few seconds. 

        "Do you want me to take you home?" he offered.  Ginny started.  

        "What?"

        "I mean, you seem really tired- maybe you could use the rest."  Ginny's mouth slowly formed into a smile.  

        "You mean it?" she asked, trying not to sound like a girl on Santa's lap.  

        "I mean it," he replied, smiling.  Ginny grinned happily.

        "Oh God thank you so much Harry," she exclaimed hugging him abruptly.  Surprised, he patted her back.  

        "No problem.  You really don't like these things do you?" he asked as they headed towards the steps, Ginny already delirious with happiness at the prospect of a full night's sleep.  

        "Hate them with a fiery passion," she agreed while nodding good night to the ghost butler.  

        "I'm not too fond of them myself," Harry said, taking her arm and walking out the door.  "They're not my thing."  

        "I figured," Ginny said, looking at the eager photographers trying to follow them.  "This is ridiculous, why do they have to follow you like that?"  Harry shrugged.

        "Well it's been pretty quiet lately.  There's been some Dark activity, but all Muggles and they couldn't care less.  Besides, we don't even know what the game is yet," he clarified for her.  He nodded at her and they Apparated to the apartment.  This time however, they had Apparated to the outside, right outside the brown door with the numbers '244' on it.  Harry looked at the door.  "This is it, right?"  Ginny nodded.  "Well…I'm sorry you're so tired.  Maybe-maybe we could do something else some other time?" he asked.  Ginny smiled wide.  

        "I'd love that," she said softly.  Harry grinned.  

        "Then I'll send you an owl," he said. 

        "I'll be waiting."  Harry looked at her and tipped her chin up slightly.  He bent down, and as he did so Ginny's mind was saying '_This is it! What you've been waiting for for 10 years!' _Gently, he kissed her.  Ginny waited for the spark excitedly.

        Nothing.

--

        Hermione Apparated into the apartment at around two in the morning, slightly tipsy but on the whole still in tact.  She happily threw herself down on the couch, thinking of the night.  And what a night it was.

        She and Ron had escaped the boredom of the Social by hightailing it to the bar the girls had gone to before the Social had begun.  After laughing about Malfoy's face when the press showed up and Pansy's ridiculous feathered hat, they had actually talked.  With the aid of alcohol, a somewhat open conversation had followed:

_"So the Social was a bust then," laughed Hermione, playing with her shot glass._

_"Yeah I guess…but the after party wasn't so bad," Ron remarked looking at her.  Hermione dropped the shot glass, ignoring it as it rolled off the counter and fell onto the floor.  _

_"Really?" she asked, acting as if she didn't know what he was talking about._

_"Really.  I took this great girl to a bar," Ron began, slightly slurred.  "You see we're friends.  But after this lame Social thingymabobber I'm not so sure if that's the best way to keep it." _

_"Oh?"_

_"Yup.__ You think she'd mind if I kissed her?" Ron asked as the bartender shot them a glare and swept up the shot glass mess.  Hermione smiled wide._

_"You know, I think she'd be okay with that," she replied._

        Hermione leaned back contently into the sofa cushions and was just about to relive the kiss when an owl came in nosily and frantically, clamping a note in its beak.  Alarmed, Hermione grabbed it and felt the warmth wash away from her face as she read.  

--

        Hermione was still sitting on the couch at six the next morning, looking scared and upset.  Ginny didn't notice this as she had buried herself in the refrigerator to locate the milk (a hankering for a milkshake had overtaken her), but she heard had nodded hello to Hermione before.  "Hermione what are you doing still in your-" she stood up and noticed with surprise Hermione's ashen face.  "dress?"  Hermione looked at her with tears settled on her lashes.  

        "Ginny…the Death Eaters, they got Seamus and Padma," she said weakly, sitting down.  Ginny dropped the milk in astonishment, the thick white liquid spilling all over the blue linoleum surface like a creamy tidal wave; the déjà vu made her head spin.  Sitting down on a stool, she was sure she was as pale as the milk she had upset.  

        "Oh my God," she said, not quite able to believe it.

        "Yeah," Hermione said softly.  "It was-it was in an attack last night, no one knew about it until this morning when…" she breathed in deeply.  "…when Harry went to visit Seamus to talk to him about the Social last night and he found them on their bedroom floor."  Ginny and Hermione both took a moment to think of the scene: Padma still in her sweatpants and shirt from sleeping, her raven hair tangled, on the floor next to her husband, who was no doubt already dressed and ready to go as he always was.  "She even had a fresh cigarette in her hands, it was recent Gin, really recent."  

        "Why did they want them?" Ginny asked after the silence.  

        "I don't know," Hermione replied quietly.  "It's all a mystery I suppose."  Ginny nodded, resisting the urge to chew on her nails as she did when she was upset or anxious.  She stood up slowly, sighing.

        "I don't suppose they'd want us moping," Hermione said, doing the same as Ginny.  Ginny shook her head, and they silently went into their own rooms.  

--

        A very loud and brisk knock on the door caused Draco to groan and roll over.  "What do you want Marvelle?"  He growled angrily.  It burst open, making Draco sit up straight in fury.  "Get the bloody hell out of my room!" He bellowed- then his eyes focused.  "Potter?" he asked disbelievingly.  

        Harry pointed his wand at him, his arm shaking with rage.  "You are now under the custody of the Ministry.  Anything you say will be held against you."

--


	7. Half of Me

**A/N: **Hey my shameless plug worked! *big grin* Yeah, I resorted to publicizing the fic on my other fic, **Trapped.**  I got more reviews and now I'm over twenty! *dances in a big circle* Okay, I'm done. Thanks for reviewing, please do so again! :) I'm really happy with this chapter, short and transitional as it is.  Read the end of the last chapter if you can't remember the ending.

--

        "Bugger the Ministry, what the hell's going on here?" Draco demanded, throughouly enraged and embarrassed at being caught in his boxer shorts.  

        "You're being arrested," Harry said simply as two burly wizards came forward and grabbed his arms, chaining them together with glowing cuffs.  Draco, jaw open in shock, looked at the two.  

        "Don't tell me…" he groaned, not able to believe his eyes.

        "Yeah," Crabbe grunted, making sure the cuffs were in place.  "We needed money, you know?" 

        "This being good stuff's catchy," Goyle added sluggishly as they tore him from his bed, making Draco narrow his eyes in humiliation and anger.  Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.  

        "Give me a break.  Don't tell me you hired these two idiots," Draco said to Harry as they started ushering him out of his room.  Harry narrowed his eyes and pointed his wand at him threateningly.  

        "I don't think you're in any position to mock Malfoy," he replied evenly.  

        "Well what is this bollocks?" Draco's outraged cry echoed down the hallway as Crabbe and Goyle walked him down it.  "If this is about last night I'll laugh."  Harry, engulfed with hate, Apparated furiously to Draco's side and glared at him venomously.  

        "Last night was not a joking matter.  If you think it is, you are one twisted, sick man."  Draco raised a blond eyebrow, confused but not about to show it- he was thinking of Ginny and the kiss.

        "Well it's not like I shagged her!" he protested as he tried to dig his heels into the carpet.  Harry was beyond livid now. 

        "You would have Malfoy?  Raped her before the kill?" he breathed dangerously right behind Draco's ear as Crabbe and Goyle nudged him down the stairs.  Draco's eyes widened in complete shock.

        "She's dead?" he asked lamely.  

        "Yes she's dead!  Her and her husband both, what did you think?  They'd deflect the curse?" Harry yelled furiously, throwing a robe from Draco's coat closet at him in disgust.  Draco put it on quickly, absorbing what Harry was telling him. 

        "Back up…she was married?" he asked, confused greatly.  Harry stepped up the blond male, who was standing with his robes wrapped defiantly around him. 

        "I'll let you know, just for kicks, that two of my good friends died last night.  And if it was because of you I will kill you myself."  

        "Two? Killed? What?" Draco yelled as he was shoved out his own door, Marvelle cowering under an umbrella in the coat closet.

        "You'll get it soon enough," Harry said grimly, shutting the door behind him with a nod of his head to the shivering house elf.  

--

        "What?!?" Ginny gasped when Hermione told her.  

        "Yeah," she replied without a trace of amusement in her voice.  Without another word she handed over the paper.

**TWO FOUND DEAD IN HOUSE: DRACO MALFOY IS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY**

        The esteemed Draco Malfoy, 24, now playing for French Quidditch, was recently arrested on the spot.  In fact, Head Auror Harry Potter, who graciously answered every question he could, says he warranted the arrest early this morning.  "It wasn't easy, but we have taken Malfoy into custody.  Right now he's at Ministry headquarters- I'm not at liberty to say anything more."  Mr. Potter did state that they 'have reasons for the arrest' and they will not be revealed to the public unless confirmation is received.  

        Mr. Malfoy has been arrested for the murders of Mr. and Mrs. Seamus Finnegan- Seamus Finnegan, 23, and Padma Patil-Finnegan, 24, were found dead in their kitchen last night following the annual Ministry Social.  Evidence (still glowing cigarette tip) conveyed that the murders were recent.

        We have no evidence as to why Mr. Malfoy was arrested, but we will update as soon as possible.

-_Kelsey Creevey, Special Correspondent_

        "Oh Lordy," Ginny breathed, sitting down and smoothing the newspaper out on her knees.  She and Hermione had changed into their flannels- both had called in sick for work.  "Why on _earth would they suspect Malfoy?  Besides the fact that he's an evil git," she asked Hermione, who was sitting down and blowing on a hot mug of coffee._

        "Old girlfriend," she said simply.  Ginny's jaw dropped.

        "Padma? Are you _kidding me?" Ginny said in complete disbelief._

        Hermione shook her head.  "Dead serious.  I can't believe you didn't know, it was the hottest gossip since Pansy getting that nose job…" _That's what I didn't recognize her, Ginny thought bitterly. "…anyway, right before she and Seamus got together, it got out that Malfoy and Padma had been meeting up for snogs all over the school.  It ended badly- they were both in the Hospital Wing at the end, no one really knows what happened besides for them I guess.  The Pomp covered it up by saying they ran into each other, but no one bought it." _

        "Well I did!" Ginny protested, digesting this information.  "But why, after six or some odd years, would Malfoy come to exact revenge on Padma?  I would've thought he'd be over it by now."

        "Ex-boyfriends are the Ministry's best bet in every case," Hermione replied grimly.  "They're practically always guilty.  Yup, I'm guessing Malfoy's in a very tight spot right now." 

        "Serves him right," Ginny muttered poisonously, staring with narrowed eyes at the sullen man on the front cover of _The Daily Prophet_.  Hermione looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  

        "They haven't proved it's him yet Gin," she said slowly.  

        "No, but he's just-just infuriating," she shot back, leaning back and sighing, cupping her pale hands over a warm coffee mug she had placed on a coaster next to her.  

        "I know he's a prat, but is that really enough to be put into Azkaban?" Hermione said softly, sipping some coffee.  "I mean…that's harsh."  

        Ginny shrugged, looking at the picture next to the one of Draco: a group shot with everyone, including Ginny and Hermione, at Seamus' birthday party the year before.  Padma's black eyes were crinkled up in joy, and she was smiling and kissing Seamus between laughs.  The Ginny in the picture was helping serve the cake, while the Hermione was engaged in a heated conversation with Harry.   They all looked so…_happy.  _

        "If he killed them, nothing's harsh enough," she said firmly, turning the paper over and flipping on the television to drown out anything Hermione might say next about Draco's well-being.

--

        "Padma Patil?" Draco said in great confusion.  "Padma Luna Patil, and they're blaming _me_?"  The prisoner in the cage next to him nodded; his brown hair was matted with dirt and his robes were encrusted with filth.  Draco tried not to imagine himself in the same situation.  "So let me get this straight," he said slowly, shifting on his cot so he could see the other man better.  "Padma and her husband get blown up, and because I'm the ex and shifty looking they convict me?" Trying to keep his voice shaking with rage, he waited for the answer.  A pause-

        "The Ministry is crap," he managed to rasp out, before participating in a long coughing attack.  Draco waited patiently for him to finish; a couple pounds to his chest and the coughs subsided. 

        "So what's your name?" Draco asked in a bored tone, dragging his fingers along the bars looking out at the doors longingly.  

        "Bones.  Walter."  Draco nodded knowledgably- Walter Bones was infamous throughout the Dark Arts world for his perfect Brain Wrenching curses (to be taking literally).

        "Fancy seeing you here," he drawled sarcastically.  Bones sat up straighter, angry.

        "I'll have you know whelp, that it's not big shocker you're here either," he defended, before hacking uncontrollably.  Draco rolled his eyes.

        "Thank you, you've helped quite enough."  Sighing in irritation, Draco leaned against the brown wall.  This wasn't anything like the vacation he had planned: dump Pansy, avoid media, stay out of trouble.  One out of three isn't _too bad…had it been an exam, he would have failed._

        And sitting in a Ministry custody cell, he certainly felt like a failure.

        Draco let his mind wander to Padma, and immediately regretted it.  He recalled his anger when the school had "found out" about their "snog sessions".  Truth in point was, Padma was really the only girl in their year as sarcastic and intelligent as he was.  Granted, Granger was intelligent beyond her years and Pansy could be sarcastic at her wedding day, but neither had both qualities.  Embarrassingly enough, in Padma Patil Draco had found a friend. He learned all about her humiliation at the Yule Ball with Weasley, and how he couldn't keep his eyes off of Granger.   She found out about his deep loathing for all thinks pink or spotted.  Meeting maybe once a week, they studied and exchanged sarcastic banter that usually made one  laugh- it was a sort of game they played, or as close to a game as Draco would ever get.  First one to laugh got the Full Body Bind for one quarter of an hour.  She had cracked first. 

        Then she hooked with up with Seamus bloody Finnegan.  Draco could hardly believe his ears when she had told him.  "What are you thinking?" he had roared, Padma raising an amused eyebrow at him.  _Honestly, she should've been a Slytherin, _the Draco in the cell thought snickering slightly.  Padma had replied coolly, "He's bloody good at what he does."  A week later, Draco wasn't speaking to her.  Truthfully, he had never forgiven her for even _considering snogging one of the low-lives they had agreed acted too good to be true.  A week later was graduation, and shortly after that he was in France training for the Quidditch season.  And now she was dead._

        Draco narrowed his eyes and rolled over on his cot, fighting not to shiver from the cold.  "I knew there was a reason I hated England," he muttered sleepily as he closed his eyes.

--

        The house looked exactly like it had before the attack: the table had been set, and there was a burnt turkey in the oven.  Despite the miserable conditions, Ginny cracked a small smile.  "Well we know _that's_ Padma's work."  Next to her, Parvati gave a small sob and rushed towards the oven.  Harry widened his eyes and took three great strides, reaching her easily.  He gently grabbed her arm to prevent her from disturbing anything.  

        "We need the evidence," he reminded her softly.  Parvati's eyes flashed at him angrily, and with surprising strength and speed threw him off her.

        "I don't _need your prattle," she hissed, tears burning the sockets of her eyes.  She looked around, clutching her purse helplessly; Dean stood behind Ginny looking equally lost.  "I-I just can't believe she's gone," she said finally, running a hand through her ragged hair.  Throughout her lifetime, Ginny couldn't remember a time where Parvati had been so upset that she didn't make the effort to look presentable.  "Half of me was blown up," she stated flatly.  Ginny, Dean and Harry (all who volunteered to come with her), stood awkwardly.  Parvati ran a finger over the table surface and picked up a shard of china.  "They had a fight right before it.  Look, see- she smashed a plate.  If I could have a Sickle for every time she broke something when upset…" she trailed off, smiling a little through the tears now dripping down her cheeks desolately.  "They weren't even happy when it happened."  Parvati bit her lip, then abruptly turned around to Dean and walked up to him.  His deep brown eyes held their full capacity of worry.  "Ready to go," she said, trying to sound upbeat, but ending in a wretched sob.  Dean took her hand and squeezed it._

        "Don't worry love," he whispered as they walked out.  That left Harry and Ginny standing in the Finnegan's front hallway.  Ginny looked around at everything, taking in everything with wide, unblinking eyes.  Harry looked sideways at her, then at the china shard Parvati had discarded on the table.

        "Did Padma ever get…violent?"  Ginny turned to look at him in shock.

        "Are you suggesting she did this?" she demanded, voice rising slightly in pitch.  He held up both his hands in protest.

        "I'm sorry, really, but it's my job."  Silence.  

        "I don't know," she said quietly.  "Did anyone else know her better than I did?" Harry shrugged, looking down at the floor where glittering outlines of the bodies lay.  

        "I don't know…she was in Ravenclaw, she was always studying off somewhere.  I never really knew her that well."  Ginny hugged her arms to her chest, chewing on a chunk of hair.

        "She told me when we were outside-you know, at the Social?" Harry nodded for her to go on.  "She told me that she and Seamus were having problems.  I don't know if that helps," she added.  Harry pocketed his wand, putting his hands in them as well.  

        "Honestly, neither do I.  They're just such a random target!  Seamus doesn't even work with the Ministry."  Ginny didn't reply; instead, she seemed to be thinking rather hard.

        "Harry, you said she was always off studying somewhere…"

        "Yes…" Harry said carefully.  

        "…with who?  Ravenclaws didn't generally study alone, and a Patil is definitely not an exclusion of the rule, Ravenclaw or not."  Harry thought this over silently, then gave one brief nod to Ginny and left without another word.  Ginny walked carefully around the tracings on the floor to the master bedroom- the bed was unmade and random bits of clothes were everywhere.  She cautiously stepped over them all and successfully stood in front of the nightstand; the drawer was slightly open.  Ginny plucked a quill from her jeans pocket and nudged it open, being careful not to touch the drawer with her bare hand.  Her efforts were rewarded when a small red bound suede book was revealed, bearing the black embossed letters 'P. F.'   "Padma Finnegan," Ginny whispered, picking it up gingerly out of its hiding spot.  

        Her eyes widened as she realized it was not a recent diary, but rather one kept in her sixth year at Hogwarts.  "Why on earth would she have this in her drawer now?" she mused aloud, flipping through the pages.  Padma had very neat handwriting, contrary to her twin whose handwriting rivaled the Weasley twins', and her diary was equally organized.  Important dates were circled in red, making it easy for Ginny to find those that counted.  

        She read it quickly:

_Today was quite interesting actually.  I told him about Seamus and he practically had a heart attack.  "What are you thinking??" he yelled.  It rather hurt my ears.  Anyway, I said back 'he's bloody good at what he does', implying snogging of course.  He turned an unflattering shade of angry purple and stormed away.  I don't know if he shall ever speak to me again.  I suppose I'll miss him really, someone as interesting as him is hard to find these days.  But now I have Seamus (it sounds silly, but I think I love him)- and I don't need Draco as much to talk to anymore._

        An exasperated sigh escaped Ginny as she closed the book and pocketed it.  "I just can't avoid him can I?" she muttered angrily, jumping nimbly over the clothes piles and then Apparating out of the house before she could find anything else that disturbed her more than the diary had.


	8. Absent Pain

**A/N: **THIS is the chapter to surprise.  This is NOT a transitional chapter.  Isn't that fun?  These aren't as long as I made the first few, but I promise they're worthwhile.  Took me long enough, didn't it? Thank you for the reviews- I got a lot more than expected. Please don't hesitate to do the same with this one!

--

        "Twenty one bottles of beer on the wall, twenty one bottles of beer…take one down, pass it around…twenty fucking bottles of delicious beer on the wall…" Draco sang longingly, looking out the small window.  For a change it was a beautiful day outside, but Draco of course was still holed up in his little cell.  Bones looked at him in annoyance while picking at his teeth with a gritty toothpick; this made Draco nauseated so he looked away and stopped singing.  

        He had silently watched the other suspects be dragged in over the past three days.  One major difference between the Ministry and the Muggle justice system was that the Ministry didn't care whether they caught the wrong person.  As long as the blame was on _someone, _all was good.  Not surprisingly, two of the five new suspects were Padma's ex boyfriends.  Draco gazed out at them with unmoving, ice cold eyes, and they looked back in terror.  They were former Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, so it was no surprise that they couldn't take the dank conditions of the dungeons.  Mike Diggory, the late Cedric's equally good looking younger cousin, and Lee Jordan mostly talked to each other, trying desperately to ignore the other more foreboding occupants around them.  Draco thought with disgust of when Harry had brought them in, apologizing fit to burst for the inconvenience.  "'We know it wasn't you chaps, but it's procedure, you understand,'" he mimicked.  The other prisoners looked at him in surprise.  "Did I say that out loud?  Oh no," he drawled lazily, not sounding like he cared in the slightest.  Adrian Pucey, the third suspect, glared at him with a face blatantly laced with hate, but Draco just smirked and looked away.  

        Draco glanced quickly at the remaining two, who looked utterly miserable and wretched: Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas.  Harry hadn't brought them in at all, but instead followed the man who did, bellowing his brains out…

**--FLASHBACK—**

        _"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND?!?" Harry roared furiously.  The man in front of him snorted._

_        "I thought you of all people knew Potter, that no one is assumed innocent until proven so."_

_        "I'll notify the Minister of this!" Harry growled angrily.  _

_        The man sneered.  "I think he'll agree with me."_

--

        Draco mused on this memory.  True, Minister Percy Weasley had grown more and more ambitious over the years, to the point where he was acting like Barty Crouch at the height of his fanaticism.  In fact, he probably would approve the fact that all suspects were under Ministry custody; Severus was right.

--

        "I can't believe this!" Ginny screamed in frustration at the bulky guard.  He remained stoic and unmoved.  "Can you _please just let me in already? I just want to give them some _biscuits _for crying out loud!" Hermione put a hand on Ginny's shaking arm, and pushed her aside gently.  She looked imploringly into the man's face._

        "Please, we just want to see our friends," she said softly.  The guard looked down at her worn and weary face and sighed, nodding.  "Thank you!" Hermione cried happily, grabbing Ginny's hand and running down the stone corridor.  Ginny yelped and held onto the basket she had nestled in the crook of her arm before.  

        "You're going to pull my arm out of its socket!" she shrieked as they ran.  Suddenly Hermione stopped, breathless.  

        "We're here, this is it."  With distaste, they looked at the scene before them; maybe fifteen people locked away in little cells, silence shrouding the room.  With a gasp, the girls hurried towards the cells of Dean and Parvati, conveniently placed next to each other.  

        "Oh my God, oh my God…" Ginny kept repeating as she reached in and clasped the icy hand of Parvati.  Parvati gave them a weak smile as Dean fought to pretend like they were in the Leaky Cauldron having a chat.

        "Hermione! Gin! Good to see you," he greeted.  Hermione gave him a sympathetic grin, and looked around the prison cells.  

        "Well, they're not- terrible," she finished, trying to be optimistic.  Parvati suddenly threw down the cup she had been holding onto the stone floor, and it smashed loudly.  The other people under custody looked up, startled.  

        "It is! It's easily the most degrading experience I've ever had in my entire life!  For God's sakes, she was my sister, no, she was my bloody _twin!!  Why on earth would I kill her?" Ginny and Hermione shrugged helplessly.  Dean put his bowl down on the floor gently, looking pensive._

        "You know I'd never kill Seamus, or Padma," he said quietly, looking at the two girls on the opposite side of the bars. 

        "Of course!" Ginny exclaimed, dropping the basket of biscuits and feeling as if she'd break with the confusion in Dean's voice.  "This is complete bull, Harry's trying his very best to get them to release you…"

        "…favoritism that is," came an amused drawl from behind them.  Parvati sighed in exasperation and leaned back against the wall as Dean rolled his eyes.

        "He's been a complete pain in the arse for as long as we've been here," Parvati explained.  "It's like he doesn't even know what he's saying half the time."  Ginny looked over at the aforementioned person and narrowed her eyes when she saw it was Draco.  Hermione decided to ignore him, and proceeded to continue talking with Parvati and Dean.  Draco stared icily back, his face void of any emotion whatsoever.  Ginny reached into her robes pocket silently, and smiled grimly when she felt her fingers close around the suede of a book cover.

        Without a word or indication to her friends, she got up and walked over to Draco's cell.  He watched her approach with growing apprehension and dread; no doubt she'd cease this opportunity to do something potentially traumatizing.  But to his immense surprise, all she did was slip a thin, red suede book between the sturdy bars and into his lap.  He looked up at her questioningly, to which she answered with an oddly formal nod and departing back to her friends.  Curiously, and ignoring his screaming instincts, he picked up the book and let it fall open on his knee.

_September 25_

_I hate Snape.  He should honestly go join a herd of Hippogryffs and gallop into the sun- who knows, maybe he'd burn himself…_

        "How did she get this?" Draco muttered to himself in slight awe, for there was no doubt in his mind- this was Padma's diary.

_September 30_

_It's a funny thing being a twin.  At least twice a day I get a "Hullo Parvati!", and I have to force a smile and say winningly, "Sorry mate! I'm her counterpart." Then, it's guaranteed, a series of emotions will flutter across their faces in that brief instant: embarrassment, disappointment, and annoyance.  I mean honestly, it's not as if **I** went up to **them and told them I was Parvati! It's not my bloody fault I had to share a stomach with her.**_

_You know another thing that's interesting? First impressions.  They're so easy to engrave, but a bitch to scratch them out.  They're one thing you can't re-do, but they can be conquered: hey, I'm living proof! Yesterday, I was in Transfiguration, and since it's gotten so much more dangerous over the years we've had smaller classes. So, I have Transfiguration with Slytherin, and Hufflepuff has it with Gryffindor, etc. And I'm sitting there, writing some sort of opinion essay, for my own enjoyment.  And that prat, Draco Malfoy,_-Draco sat up at the sight of his name on the page-_has the nerve to peek over my shoulder and read it as I'm writing it! Well, oblivious as I am, I couldn't ignore that there was a very bright blond head in the corner of my range of vision.  So I turn around and say "What do you want?" And do you know what he says? "It's good."  It was completely bizarre._

_But I saw him again this afternoon, in a deserted classroom (there are so many at Hogwarts): he was writing too.  I had to go in…I never was very good at quelling my curiosity…and I grab the parchment. I was always such a rude, grabby person. :) Of course, he's completely shocked and nervous_-"Was not," Draco mumbled to himself-_and tried to get it back, but the smart boy had left his wand in his Common Room.  So I read it._

_I know I shouldn't have, but it was actually good.  There was one part that really jumped out at me, hold on let me remember…_

_"_**There isn't just one way to live.  People have choices you know, and I don't mean whether to have the ham and cheese or the turkey sandwich for lunch.  I mean the big things, like whether to go spastic on the general public while wearing a daft looking mask and unflattering black robes.  That's one way to live…but not the only way."**

_Long story short…we talked until morning._

_-Padma_

        Draco ran an absent hand through his hair in bewilderment, looking down at the tiny book he held in his large hands.  It looked so out of place there, especially in a Ministry cell.  He looked back down at it, and closed it with one gentle prod of his finger; it flipped closed and stayed that way.

        That's the way he liked it best.

--

        The conditions of the Ministry cells disgusted Hermione to no end; scum on the walls, clammy bars, freezing cold.  She glared at the guard as they walked out, who gave her a bemused look.  Hermione sighed and kept on walking, knowing that she shouldn't have been angry at someone who didn't have anything to do with the conditions as much as she did.   Ginny was walking next to her, pale but looking oddly determined about something.  Hermione chose not to comment on this as they walked out and then Apparated to their apartment.  

        "That was pleasant," Ginny said flatly into the stale silence.  Hermione sank into the sofa, exhausted.

        "Draining," she added.  "I hate to see Parvati and Dean like that, it's sickening…and Lee and Mike too, there's no _way any of them could have done it, it's just insane!" Ginny nodded fervently, getting out some leftover Chinese from the fridge and attacking the clumpy rice with chopsticks.  _

        "Not much we can do," she replied as she swallowed a lump.  

        "That's the maddening part," Hermione pointed out.  "We're the Divine Bearers of Biscuits."  Despite her sour mood, Ginny giggled and sat next to Hermione, offering her the carton.  "No thanks, not hungry."  Ginny shrugged and ate some more, chewing slowly.  "This must be hell for all of them."

        "Who's 'all of them'?" Ginny asked sleepily, placing down the half empty carton.  

        "Parvati, Dean and Harry," Hermione said shortly.  They both took a moment to think, as they often did.  

        "Harry's probably still at the office," Ginny said sadly.  

        "They've got him working full-time; this wasn't just idle Muggle killing fun," Hermione reasoned, bringing her feet up on the couch and resting her head on her knees.  "This was a planned attack.  For whatever reason, Padma and Seamus were in the way of something."

        "Well in that case, bringing in ex-boyfriends is completely pointless," Ginny mused, throwing her chopsticks on the coffee table.  Hermione shrugged.

        "The Ministry's never been very good at catching people until Harry came along…but even he thinks that this attack was just completely unexpected.  I mean, not trying to sound conceited or anything, but wouldn't they have gone after Ron, or Harry, or me? I don't get it."  Ginny watched as the older girl bit her lip, trying to decipher in her mind what went through the murderer's head.  

        Suddenly, Ginny jumped up with wide, excited eyes.  "Hermione!" she exclaimed.  Hermione looked up at her, perplexed.

        "Whatever is the matter Ginny?" she asked wearily.  

        "I know how we can catch this asshole," Ginny replied simply, and after noting Hermione's look of complete confusion, sprinted off to her room and shut the door behind her with a click.

--

        "This is like a bad Muggle movie," Draco complained as Crabbe and Goyle strapped him to a chair under a very bright light.  The two grunted and left him sitting there, squinting so that the light wouldn't hurt his eyes too much.  It didn't really help.  Draco sighed and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair lightly to pass the time.  

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Ta-_

        "Stop it Malfoy."  Draco looked up; Potter.  

        "Oh cripes, what do you want Potter?" Draco said in exasperation.  "I let you take me into custody, I'm behaving, what is this, Story Time or something?" Harry rolled his eyes.

        "Not without a fight you didn't," he replied, referring to the first part of Draco's exclamation.  

        "I'll take that as a compliment."

        "Whatever floats your boat.  Anyway, I'm here to basically interrogate you-"

        "Goody," Draco interrupted sarcastically.

        "The faster I ask, the faster you get back to your cozy cell," Harry taunted.  Draco scowled.

        "It's hardly comfortable," he sniffed.  

        "Not the point…Malfoy, did you know Padma before any…err, snogging?" he asked awkwardly.  There was a pause.

        "Oh bloody hell, I never snogged her!" Draco yelled angrily.  "I mean honestly! It's truly pathetic that you people hang onto school gossip for five odd years." Harry grinned slightly.

        "It really is," he agreed, stunning Draco into silence.  "But seriously.  Did you?" Draco sighed and nodded, rolling his eyes.

        "Yeah.  We used to study.  End of story."  Harry looked at him closely.

        "Somehow, I don't quite believe that," he said slowly.  Draco blinked at him, looking completely indifferent.

        "Fab.  Now can I go?" he asked.  Harry shook his head.

        "Not until you tell me the truth," he replied shortly.

        Draco sighed; Potter was more infuriating than ever…time for a little fun.  "_Je ne __sais__ pas quoi faire…je suis dans un piece petit avec un garcon tres penible, et malheuresment, il est toi."*  Harry threw up his hands in exasperation._

        "You're incredible," he said, sighing.  Draco smirked.

        "_Merci beaucoup saloupe_."** Frustrated, Harry turned to leave as Draco shook from suppressed laughs.  

**Thump.**

Harry turned around slowly to face a frozen Draco, looking on the floor desperately, looking as though he wanted very much to use his hands to pick up the book that had fallen on the floor, out of his pocket.

--

        Dean clasped Parvati's shivering hand in his own through the bars, rubbing it gently to warm it up.  Her dark eyelashes brushed her skin softly as she breathed slowly in slumber.  He looked at her fondly, tucked a wisp of brown hair behind her ear, and settled down to go to sleep himself.  

        It was cold, but Dean had had worse.  When he was a boy in his Muggle house, his mother worked 24/7 to get enough money for heat, as his dad had run off with some Indian girl when he was born.  So it was always cold in Dean's memories.  He closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.  It wasn't ten minutes after he had drifted off that a jolt of something like Muggle electricity went through their joint hands, like a little shock of dark energy.  Dean shifted in his seat, but didn't wake up; neither did Parvati.

        Under Parvati's robes, her hidden forearm glowed eerily, forebodingly…invitingly.  

--

So there's the real version.  I'm so sorry to give you that crap version before, but I figured that if I didn't you'd all yell at me hoarse. Virtually of course. 

FRENCH TRANSLATIONS:

_*Je ne _sais___ pas quoi faire…je suis dans un piece petit avec un garcon tres penible, et malheuresment, il est toi._

(I don't know what to do…I'm in a little room with a guy who's a pain in the neck and unfortunately, he is you."

**_ Merci beaucoup saloupe_

(Thanks a lot bastard)


	9. Promise

**MY LITTLE NOTE**: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the last, revised chapter! Otherwise, you will be SO confused on this one, just trust me and DO IT before reading this one!

Thank you

Oh, and Darcel- yes, I do speak French, not fluently on any level, but sort of yes. :) And thank you Violante for the corrections: I'm still learning!  I'm pretty sure that 'saloupe' was the right spelling but oh well lol.     By the way, my keyboard either doesn't do accents or I'm just stupid…so any French in this chapter will be incorrect due to accents. Anyway, let's get on with it, shall we?

By the way, we're seeing a LOT of Lavender in here…I wonder why? Apologies in advance for the complete absence of Hermione, Ginny or Ron…

--

        Draco froze as Harry bent down slowly to pick up the book.  "That's my private property," he croaked out, his throat blocking up.  Harry gave him one sharp and murderous glance before looking at the small book in his hands and lightly flipping it open.

        _"'June sixth,'" he read to Draco's horror, _"'I can't believe it.  Draco has just told me about his parents. It's awful. A bloody crisis. How else to put it? He looked so…dangerous when he talked of them; like he was a completely different person._'"  Harry snapped it shut making Draco jump, like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.  "So." The one word held such weight.  _

        "So what?" Draco replied somewhat cheekily, gulping and hoping to dear God he didn't sound nervous.  He looked up to where Harry was standing and instead was met with a swinging door. 

--

        "All right you worthless loads, I've got bread. Eat or it leave it." Draco jerked awake at the sound of Blaise Zabini's raspy, husky voice. The best friend of Millicent Flint (nee Bulstrode), she was also burly and muscular, with a love for all things rough. Her plaid shirt's sleeves rolled up to the elbows, she held a basket in her wind chapped hands full to the brim with what looked like rock hard rolls. Draco made a face as she neared his cell, blowing a wisp of coarse black hair out of her face as she leered nastily at him. "Malfoy. What a pleasure to be serving you today." Her voice carried a malicious sarcasm that even the dimmest Hufflepuff couldn't miss. Draco sneered up at her.

        "Nice to know that you know your place Zabini," he replied coolly, reaching for some bread. Blaise scowled darkly, and tossed a roll violently through the bars.

        "I'd watch it if I were you- take a closer look at which side of the bars you're on." Laughing unpleasantly, Blaise continued on her way, silently doling out the bread. Draco glared at her broad back and savagely took a bite of the roll. 

        "I have a press conference in two hours!" he roared suddenly through the bars. The occupants around him looked at him as if he were mad. "If I'm not there the French paparazzi will be all over this bloody case!" Blaise heaved an exasperated sigh and balanced the basket on her hip. 

        "I don't give a damn about the paparazzi; not if they're French, British, Polish or Nigerian!" she barked back at him. Draco decided that rather than come back with a scathing reply he should stay quiet; maybe he'd get off for good behavior.  "Thank you," she said in reply to his silence.  Turning to face all the wretched faces, she looked at them with the smugness of the Cheshire Cat.  "While you're here, I'm in charge.  I won't tolerate any smart alecks, pillocks of any kind or any type of defiance whatsoever." She took a pause to let this sink in.  "Do I make myself clear?"  They nodded mutely, but of course, Draco scoffed loudly.

        "Honestly, who do you think you are?  Bubba-laise of the Ministry cells?" he sniggered, swallowing the last of the bread and forgetting his previous thought to keep his mouth shut.  Blaise came right up close to the bars and glared at him through them menacingly.

        "I swear by Merlin, Malfoy," she whispered, "that if you so much as _shift_ wrong in your seat I will make sure you're the guilty party."  Draco stared stonily at her before turning his back and eating his roll morosely.  Blaise narrowed her eyes at his back and picked up her basket, strutting out of the room and sending random people glares every so often.  Everyone watched her leave and, simultaneously, breathed a sigh of relief as the door clicked shut.

--

        Lavender brushed lightly at the canvas with her paintbrush, admiring the graceful strokes she was capable of with the device in her hand.  She hastily pulled back her mousy brown hair in a low ponytail and pushed up the sleeves of her baggy artist's jacket.  It was a beautiful day in Rome, one of those that inspired her to move there in the first place.  The sun was shining and the sky was blue, but Lavender chose to close all of her curtains, creating an inner cave of darkness.  It had been a month since the murder of the Finnegans, and Lavender hadn't gone back to England since.  

        She picked up a china figurine of a ballerina and polished it thoughtfully as she thought back on the night it had happened.  Despite Parvati and Padma's efforts to set her up with Fred Weasley, she had gone solo, one of her only friends to do so.  It had been a wonderful evening, laughing with her best friends while mentally picking out the more handsome single wizards at the Social.  She had even gotten to dance with Terry Boot (a dashing charmer now)!  But, partly thanks to her minimal Seer skills, she knew something was wrong in the back of her mind.  However, she didn't want to pursue it.  So she left that night around midnight, Apparating to her Rome apartment and hoping for the best.

        Well, the best didn't happen.

            The next thing she knew there was a red marked owl tapping at her window, a black envelope in its beak.  Lavender gripped the figurine in her hand tightly as she recalled the sickening whoosh of dread her stomach had issued as she opened the envelope delicately in her fingers.  And the message inside- 

_Ms. L. Brown-_

_        We regret to inform you that your acquaintances Mr. and Mrs. S. Finnegan have been the victims of a tragic incident at approximately __1:32__ last night.  We are very sorry for your loss._

_-E. Macmillan, Department of Dark Incidents _

        It was so impersonal! The causality of the letter shocked and angered her; it was in the garbage two minutes later.  As Lavender was contemplating this there came a loud knock at the door, brisk and business like.  The ballerina slipped out of her quavering hands and smashed on the floor, her porcelain slippered foot two feet away from her split head.  Lavender took a deep breath and walked over to the door calmly, opening it smoothly.  

        "Harry," she said blandly, forcing a smile on her worn face.  "How lovely to see you.  Won't you come in?"  Harry smiled gently and stepped inside, stooping a little to avoid the doorframe.  

        "Thank you Lav," he replied, stomping some of the dirt off of his shoes.  "Fab place you've got here."  He waved around the mellow blue room and Lavender smiled. 

        "What's on your mind?" she asked, closing the door shut quietly.  Harry sighed and suddenly looked very uncomfortable.  Lavender noticed that he kept fidgeting with something in his hands; a small, red something.  An awkward silence fell, deafening both the adults before Lavender hastily said "Won't you sit down?"  Harry nodded gratefully and sank into one of Lavender's blue pouffes.  She settled into one across from him and crossed her legs.  

        "Rome is beautiful," he blurted out quickly.  Lavender rolled her eyes, looking much more like herself than she had been for the past few days.

        "Spit it out Harry," she interrupted.

        "Yes I suppose I should…I'm here about the murders."

        "Murder…such a coarse word," Lavender mused dreamily, stroking the fabric of her chair in a daze.  Harry almost threw up his hands in frustration but instead cleared his throat loudly.  She jumped.  "Oh sorry Harry, I tend to do that sometimes."

        "I know," he replied grinning.  She threw a pillow at him with lightening speed and he chuckled.  "Anyway."  Lavender kept silent, biting her lip and waiting for him to continue.  It took awhile.  "Umm…did you know that Padma was friends with Malfoy?" he said after a few minutes.  Lavender blinked at him in surprise.

        "No, I didn't," she said after a second or two.  "I did hear a rumor…"

        "Yeah, I'm checking into it," Harry cut in bitterly.  "He claims otherwise, but I just found this," he held up the book, "and I haven't read it all yet but I'm guessing it'll help a lot."  Lavender leaned forwards and squinted her eyes slightly, fixing her hair with an absent hand.

        "Hmmm…I'm guessing it's a diary."

        "Very good.  It was Padma's," Harry answered, tossing her the book lightly.  She caught it in her lap and looked at it for a second, taking in the cover slowly.  

        "I can see that," she said quietly, opening it up.  Harry sighed, ran a hand through his hair and sat back in his chair.

        "I was hoping you might be able to help out…Parvati was her twin and everything and I know you're Pav's best friend, but I know you were pretty close to Padma too…besides, Parvati's not being too cooperative at the moment."  Harry grinned slightly and Lavender giggled.

        "Sounds like her."  She flipped a page and looked down on it intently.  Without thinking, she began to read aloud.  "'_Do you know who one girl everyone overlooks is?  Ginny Weasley.  I never really gave her a second thought besides for that whole diary catastrophe and just ten minutes ago I had a great conversation with her.  People surprise you sometimes, you know?'_"  There was silence.  Lavender chuckled dryly.  "She could never write anything without making a point, could she?"

        "That's the way she was," Harry replied, leaning back and sighing.  He drummed his fingers on the side table before sitting up straight, as if he had just realized something.

        "What?" Lavender asked, seeing his face.

         "Do you remember seventh year?" he asked abruptly.  Lavender raised an eyebrow.

        "Of course…" she said carefully.

        "Do you remember the Quidditch final, when everyone made bets on who was going to win and everyone bet on Gryffindor?" 

        Lavender, not exactly sure where he was going with this, answered with caution.  "Yes, I do."

        "Well, we all know that Slytherin won…" he trailed off painfully, obviously still a little bitter about it.  She waited patiently for him to continue.  "…but you knew before anyone, if I recall correctly.  You and Parvati went around giggling your heads off and whispering together in the corridors."  Lavender sucked her breath in sharply.

        "How did you know we knew?"

        "Oh come on Lav, it's not a big deal.  It was the school Quidditch Cup for crying out loud!" he said chuckling.  She looked at him sharply.

        "I beg to differ," she said quietly, getting up and crossing to the window.  She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window.  Harry frowned and got up as well, coming up behind her.

        "What happened?" he asked gently.  She sighed and turned around, and to his surprise there were sparkling tears nestled in her pale blue eyes.

        "This is quite a long story," she said hesitatingly.  Harry shrugged and put his hands in his pockets comfortably.  

        "I've got time…and a case to solve," he added pointedly.  She sighed and motioned for him to sit down again.  

        "All right.  I'll just go get some t-" she began.

        "No Lavender, we need to get this done," he said firmly, cutting her off.  Lavender grinned slightly.

        "Harry, I kind of need the tea to explain," she replied.  Harry looked embarrassed.

        "Oh.  Well all right then, tea would be corking," he mumbled sheepishly.  Lavender smiled and scuttled off the kitchen, where she pointed her wand at a black iron kettle and was satisfied when it whistled.  She carefully poured out two teacups and walked back with them in her hands gracefully.  Setting it down on a knit coaster on Harry's side table and her own, she sat down.  As she began, she slowly stirred the tea in her hands.

        "Parvati and I both loved Divination; I think we really were the only ones that did, actually.  Anyway, I loved the idea of being able to know what would happen before it did- knowing your fate.  I used to get those Tarot Cards and try to decipher them, but I never really was any good at it.  I mean, I thought I had found an 'unidentified object' when it was Uranus for goodness' sakes!" Harry grinned as he remembered the memory, but didn't interrupt.  "Divination was really Parvati's forte.  She was amazing!  You know, she wasn't joking when she said that she saw loads of stuff in the crystal ball; she really did.  In our third year, she saw Dementors crowding in on three figures on the Hogwarts grounds.  Trelawny lapped it up of course; anything related to death she loved.  Morbid little bitch," she added, making Harry laugh.  "I still don't know what that vision was about, but it got Parvati interested.  Fourth year comes 'round and she sees you carrying Cedric's body."  Harry sat up slowly, intrigued.  "That freaked her out a little, really.  Almost went mad, lying up in our dorm claiming she had a migraine.  And no one knew but me."

        "No one?" Harry interrupted, not able to take the curiosity anymore.  Lavender shook her head.

        "No.  She made me promise not to tell, she was tortured by being able to see things.  I would've loved that," Lavender sighed, sitting back and tapping her spoon against the tea cup thoughtfully.  "The years went on and she saw more and more.  The crystal ball was her specialty, her best friend and most hated enemy all in one.  Sixth year, she saw Ron and Hermione sitting on a wall somewhere worrying about you.  Later the same year she saw you bleeding in the forest- your last encounter with You Know Who before you joined with the Ministry, right?"  Harry nodded mutely.  "That's what I thought.  Seventh year she didn't really see much besides for Malfoy catching the Snitch and winning the match; she also saw him raising the cup, looking around and only getting a quarter of the crowd to cheer for his efforts.  That made her furious you know.  Stewed about it for weeks afterward, doing anything she could for him like picking up his quill or doing his homework.  He just thought she was flirting, but she didn't want to have to be part of the booing crowd."  Harry tried to absorb this all in, a daunting task, for Lavender was giving him more information than all of his interrogated suspects combined.  

        "Are these visions why you got all tight lipped?" he asked her warily.  She shook her head slowly.  "What then?"

            "Well…after we graduated, we kind of split off for a bit.  Maybe six months?  We all did that, to sort ourselves out a bit.  I came to Rome to paint and she said she was off to her Granny's in Norfolk.  But the thing is, I Apparated to Norfolk as a surprise a couple weeks later and she wasn't there.  Her grandmother said she didn't know what I was talking about. I thought it a little odd, but I brushed it away.  I met her a few months afterward and she seemed a little different somehow, distant, you know?  Her eyes never fully focused; she told me she had an accident in the woods one day with an animal.  I believed her too…"  Lavender looked up.  "But now I'm not so sure."

--

        "Dean…Dean, wake up."  Parvati gently shook her sleeping boyfriend through the bars with her hand.  He jerked awake with a snort.

        "What? Where? Oh.  Morning Parvati," Dean said smiling, kissing Parvati's fingers as they clasped around his hand.  He looked up into her face and felt his stomach disappear as he noticed small dots of moisture in her eyes.  She bit her lip and squeezed his hand harder.  "Don't worry, we'll get through this…" Dean started to reassure her, but Parvati shook her head.

        "It's not that.  Look, I…" she trailed off and swallowed.  He waited patiently, worriedly, until she began speaking again.  "I need to tell you something.  And you have to promise not to tell Harry."

--

**A/N**: OK. That's this chapter. Now, I have to make this announcement on all my other updates too, but I'm just here to say that I will be taking a break- finals are coming up, school is ending, and life is pretty much all over the place.  I need to take this break and I promise you a phenomenal chapter (with plenty more Draco, Ginny, Hermione and Ron) when I return.  Until then, Enjoy!


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